Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition
by wordsmithsandbetas
Summary: We have 11 entries for our Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition! Please read each entry and use the voting document in our facebook group!
1. Self-Preservation (Number 1)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Self-Preservation (Number 1)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: One Shot  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Forced Marriage, Explicit Language, and Sexual Content**

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 **Self-Preservation**

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She sat in the hallway, waiting for someone to call her name. There was nothing she could do at this point. They had tried everything. So many had been lost during Voldemort's reign and the subsequent war. So few witches and wizards who remained were getting married, having children. The Wizengamot took it upon itself to enact new legislation which brought her here, to this uncomfortable seat in a ministry hallway.

"Granger, Hermione." The voice was pleasant, soft. Surely, this slender woman couldn't be the one to signal the end of her life. "Follow me, please." Panic. Her heart began racing and she tried to calculate whether she could reach her wand in time to apparate before the woman restrained her. No, it was no use. They would locate her and bring her back. She grit her teeth and stood, wiping sweaty palms down her skirt. Nodding her head toward the woman, but more in resignation to herself, the curly-haired brunette followed with heavy footsteps.

"Have a seat just there, and we will begin in a moment." The woman made a pointing gesture to an exam table. There was a large window across the way and Hermione instantly looked out of it, seeing only her own reflection in return. She wondered who was watching from the other side. Agitated fingers gripped and straightened out the very edge of her skirt. It was already wrinkled from the walk over. She could not find the concentration to apparate without splinching herself, so she walked, the slow walk of a woman condemned. When the witch spoke again, she did not hear it. Instead, she felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. "Hermione, are you ready?" She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. "You will cast a predetermined series of spells. I will have an on-going spell on you which will test their strength and capacity. We will use those results to match you to someone within the appropriate age and magic range. Do you understand?" She glanced at the hand on her shoulder, saw the wedding ring there. The woman's look barely concealed the pity. Hermione nodded.

"We will start with lumos, followed by nox. When you are ready."

"L-lumos." The light was dim, but grew bright rather quickly. She put it out with a quick,  
"nox," and lowered her wand.

"Good. Next is wingardium leviosa. That book over there." She gestured to a nearby table.

"Wingardium leviosa." The book levitated, then settled back down. No flair, no extra movement. Short and to the point.

"Expecto Patronum." At this, Hermione looked up. Could she conjure a happy memory now? Would she see that bubbly otter rolling and flopping around? She shook her head and lifted her wand again.

In a rather more confident voice than she felt, she called out, "Expecto patronum!" The soft blue light emerged, forming into the familiar otter she watched as it rolled off of the nearby cart, completed a few flips, and then nodded happily at her. She smiled sadly, then let it dissipate.

"Very good, Miss Granger. That will be all I need to see today. You will be escorted to a room until your match has been found." The door opened and an assistant mediwitch walked in the room, motioning for her to follow.

Hermione clutched her wand tightly as she walked down the hallway. The ministry had opened up a rarely-used section of the auror wing once the new legislation had passed. Once there, she noticed a medical-grade hallway filled with doors. Presumably, this was where she would spend her days waiting to get pregnant. Her mouth twitched and she had to take a deep breath in order not to hex the young woman leading her to a nearby door. The blonde before her touched her wand to the knob, which was obviously keyed to it, and led her inside.

"Miss Granger, please press this button," she pointed to a call button by the door, "when you need anything. We will assist you whenever called. You have a small drawing room, a bedroom, the bathroom is there to the right, and a dining area off to the left. Your meals will be provided for you so long as you are under ministry care. Do you have any questions?"

Hermione was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear what was asked. Another tap to the shoulder brought her out of it.

"Miss Granger?"

"Oh. Yes?"

"Do you have any questions?"

"None that you can answer. Thank you."

A quick nod had the assistant out the door and Hermione alone. She wandered around the room for a while, unsure what to do with herself. Several times, she tried the door to see if it would open. Even an "alohomora" or two and it didn't budge. She was well and truly stuck here until the ministry found her a match. It was utterly ridiculous that they felt the need to use everyone like breeding stock. The ministry felt that with fewer witches and wizards getting married, having children after the war, that there would be fewer witches and wizards to carry on the magical lines. Even muggle-born rates seemed lower after Voldemort's death. She shook her head. There was nothing to be done. The Wizengamot had voted it in with a majority vote. It did not look like it would be repealed anytime soon.

Several of her friends from Hogwarts had already been matched. Harry and Ginny were expecting before the law went into place, so they were exempt from the new law. Neville was matched with Luna in the first round. They got pregnant right away. Luna mentioned something about wrackspurts helping her know when the time was right. Neville just looked embarrassed and ready to go home. Ron… Ron had been taken in a month ago. He was matched within a week to one of the Patil twins, Parvati, it was. They were still waiting to get pregnant, but the last she heard it was only because they had just missed her last cycle. Hermione sighed. She wondered how long it would be before she was matched.

On one hand, she wished it would happen soon, so that she could get this over with and get out of there. On the other hand, she wanted to hold off for as long as she could. While having children had definitely been in the plans with Ron, she felt extremely uncomfortable with the idea of having to breed like animals under the eyes of the ministry.

All of that thinking soon had her exhausted. Not more than ten minutes after falling over on the couch, she heard a quiet knock at the door. Once again, her heartbeat started jumping out of her throat and she stood, wand in hand. Backing into a corner, she croaked, "Come in."

"Miss Granger, I have your dinner."

A shaky breath came out, one that she didn't even know she was holding. "Oh. Thank you. Please set it on the table." She watched as the young man walked over and set down a single tray on the table. He saw her wand out, eyes widened a bit, then fled. "I won't—" The words didn't make it out before the door was closed and she was left alone again. "Hurt you." She finished the sentence anyway, frowning, then made her way over to the table.

To her surprise, the food was decent. They had sent her roasted garlic chicken, a side of steamed broccoli, and some fresh carrots. She ate quickly. There was nothing to do in the room, so she walked back over to the couch and fell asleep. It was morning before she heard another soft knock.

This time, they didn't hesitate to open the door without waiting for a response. "Miss Granger, I have breakfast." She shook awake, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"Please set it on the table. Thank you." A soft tap let her know the food had been set down and then she heard the door close.

Hermione sat up. By the time she walked over and saw the food, she realized there were two trays. She stood up straight, breathing shallowly and processing the information before turning around.

"So you've realized there's food for two now."

That voice. She knew that voice. She let out a gasp and spun, not caring that she knocked a fork to the floor. "Malfoy." There he stood, blond hair casually swept back across one slate-grey eye. He wore a burgundy jumper over dark grey trousers. Arms were crossed and he had one hip cocked to the side. That familiar smirk was etched into his face, which stared across the room at her.

"Granger." The word was careful, full of meaning. "Are we going to stand here all day, or are we going to eat whatever gruel the ministry provided us with?" His face tilted to the side, indicating the trays of food behind her. She looked back, mouth gaping like a fish out of water for a moment before he strode forward. "Look, Granger. I'm here. You're here. Now that we've established that, let's eat so that we both don't perish before they even get a crack at us."

She nodded, unable to get anything resembling a word out of her mouth. Slowly, she leaned down and picked up the fork. All the while, her wand was clutched in her hand, and she was watching Malfoy closely. He merely walked forward, took a seat at the table and began to eat. When she saw that nothing else was forthcoming, she, too, sat and started eating the fresh fruit and cereal. Silence reigned over the meal, as neither of them felt the need to disrupt the other's concentrated chewing.

Once everything had been devoured—every scrap that they could find, there was nothing to hide behind. Hermione pursed her lips and looked down at the table. "I take it you are my match, then."

"Of course I am. Why else would I be here?"

She was angry at this, angry at the entire situation. "How long have you known?"

"They knew directly after your test. I've been here for two weeks now. Apparently you weren't ready for…" he looked her over as if assessing a potions ingredient for freshness, " _me_ , until today."

Hermione's cheeks bloomed. "They haven't cast any spells on me since the initial tests. How would they know when I was ready?" This was muttered almost to herself, but being so close, Draco heard it anyway.

"There are monitoring spells on all inhabitants in each of these rooms. They report back to the ministry mediwitches and wizards assigned to us. They would know the moment your heartrate goes up _and_ why." If her cheeks could be any redder, she felt they would be bleeding.

"So, you and I, we are…" She let the words trail off.

"Matched, with both skill level and magical strength. By pairing us, they have signed our marriage documents, much to my mother's chagrin, I'm sure." At this, he grinned. This threw Hermione off, as she didn't know how to react. "We are supposed to copulate at our _earliest convenience_." The last two words were said with outright petulance.

Hermione began fiddling with the edge of her skirt again. She bit her lip and didn't realize that Draco had risen from his seat when she felt a hand settle on her shoulder. An indignant squeak slipped out then and she looked up, fully expecting him to drag her into the bedroom and get it over with.

"Gra—Hermione." The name seemed stuck in his throat for a minute. She looked into his eyes, which seemed almost sad now. Was she that pitiful? Tears threatened at the edge of her eyes and he grabbed the hand that was scrunching her skirt, lifting it in his own. He knelt down.

"Fuck the ministry." This startled her and he let out a short, barking laugh. "Neither of us wanted this. As much as you probably think very little of me," he looked a little pained to be saying that, "I will not be your rapist." She stared at him. Those tears which had been held back until now broke through the dam and were streaming down her cheeks.

Malfoy's slender fingers reached out and tried to wipe them away, but she lifted her own hands and dropped her head into them, crying unabated. With nothing else to do, Draco wrapped one arm around her shoulder and carefully put another under her legs. She whimpered, but folded into his chest. He hadn't expected this when he'd been told he was matched. He fully expected a Slytherin, perhaps Pansy or Daphne, maybe even a Ravenclaw. He softly shook his head, but carried the very-much-a-Gryffindor woman in his arms to the bedroom.

Once Hermione realized where she was, she panicked, began flailing a bit and Draco had to walk quickly and set her on the edge of the bed.

"Stop it." He grabbed both of her wrists and held her down. "We aren't here for that. I brought you in here to sleep." Once understanding came across those pleading brown eyes, Draco let go. "I will sleep on the couch."

"But—" She tried to lift her chin, to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt and show a brave face.

"No buts. You aren't ready for that. You aren't ready for anything." With nothing more but a head tilt in acknowledgment of their predicament, Draco left the room.

Hermione was asleep quickly. She slept fretfully and when she woke up in the same clothes she had arrived in, the only thing she could think of was taking a shower. Crawling out of bed, she rummaged around in the drawers until she found some ministry provided clothing, which amounted to the equivalent of scrubs, and headed quietly out of the bedroom. Half-way to the bathroom, she saw Draco curled up on the couch, one arm pillowed under his head. She smiled just for a moment, thinking that he was not the child she knew back at Hogwarts, and for that, she was grateful. Before she let that thought run away with her, she snuck off to the bathroom and took a quick, but very thorough shower.

Upon re-emerging from the bathroom, she noticed that breakfast had arrived. Draco sat at the table, his hair mussed and sleep not quite stricken from his face. This was definitely not the pristine boy she knew from school. The young man who never had a hair out of place. She giggled for a moment at that, remembering the time she punched him and then gloated about it to Harry and Ron.

"What has you in such a good mood this morning?"

"Nothing." She tried to hide the smile in her spoon, but was unsuccessful.

"That smile isn't for nothing. Spill, Granger."

"If we're married, _Draco_ , then you should call me by my name." He looked stunned that she'd called him out on it, and he nodded, just the once. "If you must know, I was thinking about punching you." He blanched and lowered one hand to where his wand was. "Not now, you dolt. When we were in Hogwarts."

"Ah. That." Draco shook his head and shoved a spoonful of omelet into his mouth.

"Yes." Hermione laughed openly this time, letting it all out. There was so much tension at that breakfast table she was surprised the silverware wasn't singing with it. Draco simply sat there and stared at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I think I am" She stuck her fork in a piece of pineapple and shoved it, quite ungracefully into her mouth.

By the time all of Draco's food was gone, Hermione had eaten what she could handle that morning, as her stomach was in knots. She did not know how to act around him and she didn't even know what to do now that they were expected to stay together until she was pregnant. This thought alone sent her into another panic and she started breathing shallowly, both hands on the table and eyes downcast.

"Hermione." The word was slow, careful. When she did not respond, he knelt next to her again. "Hermione. Talk to me."

"I don't know how you… me… I don't. I've never. I—" Her breathing stuttered and she looked up into his eyes. For a moment, she saw pain, but it transformed to understanding.

"Hermione, the first thing you need to do is breathe. I can't very well get you pregnant if you aren't breathing. Necrophilia really isn't my thing." She smiled at this and laughed, leaning forward and placing her forehead on his shoulder.

"I know nothing about you."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. I need to know everything."

"I don't think that we have time for that—"

"What do you mean?" She was exasperated now.

"I was going to say I don't think we have time for that _right now_." He placed a hand on each of her shoulders, sitting her upright. "But we will. What do you need to know about me right now?"

"I-I don't even know where to start."

"Hermione, why don't we stick to the need-to-know in order to get through this… ordeal. We apparently have the rest of our lives to work on the rest. Agreed?" She nodded. "Okay. I'll go first. I've had three sexual partners. I wasn't currently in a relationship when this happened." He looked to her. She just stared at him until she realized he was waiting for her to reciprocate.

"Oh, I've um, I've not had any sexual partners." That bright blush returned to her cheek and she focused on a loose string on the pants she wore. "I w-was in a relationship with Ron."

"You and he never?" She bit her bottom lip and stared at him. "You mean to tell me that they're pulling virgins for this fucking law?" Draco's irritated groan radiated through her. She felt inadequate. She tried to stand, to move away, but his hand shot out and kept her there. "Where are you going?" Grey eyes pierced through her.

"Y-you don't want me knowing that I haven't…"

"Granger. That has nothing to do with this. I just can't believe they'd force someone to do this who hadn't… Nevermind." He wiped a hand across his face. "Granger, do you want this?"

"My name is Hermione." Her stubborn confidence was back now and her eyebrows knit together. "I don't want this, but I've got no choice now. I'll have to make the best of it."

"Oh, so you'll just make the best of me. I'm not good enough for the ever-perfect Hermione Granger." He stood and walked away. Standing by the couch.

"Draco, that's not what I meant." Her voice was quiet. "I just don't know how any of this is supposed to work. I've not done," she gestured between him and herself, "this."

"Do you want it?" He walked closer, standing half-way between the couch and her now.

"I don't know."

"Do. You. Want. It?" He was directly before her now, forcing her to look directly at him with those slender fingers on her chin. "I need an answer, _Hermione_." He leant down and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft as they slid across her own. She felt him pull away and thought that he was done, but he came back in, swiping his tongue across the bottom of her upper lip before slanting his head and waiting for her to open to him. When she did, his tongue dove into her mouth, teasing and twisting between them. Hermione's hands had reached out at that point and were running up his sides, grabbing at his jumper, but he stopped her, retreating from the kiss. Her eyes were hazy now, passion-glazed. She panted for a moment before he asked again. "Do you want it?" This time, his voice was a bit strained.

"Yes."

That word was all he needed before he pulled her off the chair and guided them both to the bedroom. There were several kisses that hindered their progress, wandering hands that caused any semblance of a plan to halt in its tracks. By the time Hermione's knees hit the edge of the bed, they were both breathing heavily. She tried to move backward still, but he stopped her. Instead, he stood her up and turned her around so that her back was to him. She felt the hard planes of his body against her and sighed.

Draco began laying down the foundations of what would be the temple of Hermione. Soft, layered kisses just below her ear trailed down her neck and dove into the shirt she wore. When he could no longer reach any more skin, his hands trailed down the fabric and curled around the edges. She tensed, but those lips continued to play her neck like a finely-tuned lute. It wasn't until he began lifting the shirt that he took her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling and rolling the edge. She moaned, squirming beneath his touch. When that shirt got to her breasts, Hermione tried to push it back down, but he tutted and pushed her hands away. She blushed, knowing that she was not wearing anything underneath and wanting to keep it on. Instead, he lifted it the rest of the way off, careful of her hair and immediately swiped his tongue up the outside of her ear, blowing on it. She shivered.

His hands splayed open on her ribs, massaging gently upward. When they reached the underside of her breasts, she inhaled sharply. Those lips of his had made their way from her neck and were currently assaulting her shoulders, nibbling, licking and kissing ever-downward. A knuckle rubbed the bottom of one breast, which turned into an extended finger. That finger molded into a hand cupping and rolling the pliant flesh around. She exhaled deeply, head thrown back on to his shoulder. When those dexterous fingertips found her nipple, she practically jumped away from him, but he was already back to kneading and exploring. She felt the jolt right down to her toes, writhing against him in the aftershock.

In one fluid motion, Draco spun her around and had his hands right back on her breasts. She did not get to look at him very long, for his mouth was then attached to one sensitive nipple, stretching it between wet lips, applying a lick and then blowing soft, cold streams of air on it. All of this in the span of a minute had her moaning wantonly, barely standing upright with all of the new sensations. His arms wrapped around her. Draco backed her toward the bed and laid her on the edge of it. Hermione reached out and grabbed at the hem of his jumper. He lifted it for her, revealing a lean torso with a light trail of hair disappearing into the trousers he still wore.

Her hands ran up and down his stomach, feeling every muscle and movement as he continued to work her over. When his mouth once again made it to hers, they both stopped. Hands barely moved on one another and they just focused on the feeling of tongue against tongue, breathing in deeply. Draco broke away, leaning his forehead against hers with a lazy smile.

"Are you ready for more, Miss Granger?"

She nodded shyly and he backed away from her just enough to hook his thumbs in the trousers she wore. They slid down slowly, partly because she had to lift her hips and wriggle out of them, but also partly because Draco took his time admiring the flesh as it was exposed. He watched each inch as it was revealed. Once they were fully off and Hermione was lying there in her underwear, he nodded for her to scoot a bit further up the bed. When she obliged, he crawled slowly up to her. This had her breath hitching, for she didn't know where he was going or in what direction he would end up. He started at her toes.

Slender fingers wrapped around each part of her, massaging and warming the flesh as he trailed behind with kisses. He wanted her to know that this was not going to be something quick, something unforgettable. Her body was something to worship, and so he did. She writhed beneath him, quite sensitive to touch. In some areas, she was ticklish, but in other areas he heard her soft moans and the increase in breathing. When he made it to her underwear, his palm lay flat across her and he rubbed in circles, waiting for that tell-tale hitch and jump when he found just the right spot. She nearly climbed off the bed when he did.

He smiled and backed away from her, which seemed to confuse Hermione. With a smirk, he lowered his trousers, revealing black boxers that tented with impatience. She blushed quite intensely when she looked down at him, but looked away quickly. He crawled back up to her and hooked his thumbs once again under her last piece of protection, sliding it down. She looked unsure, biting her lip, but allowed him to do so nonetheless. Fully revealed to him, he smiled and leaned down to place a kiss to the inside of each thigh.

Draco lay down beside her and lay his mouth against her tight nipple, tugging on it once or twice to distract her while his open hand worked its way across her thigh and toward her core. The pad of his thumb circled around her clit a few times, causing her to clench her thighs together and grip the sheets, but when his fingers moved downward her leg fell open for him. He swiped at the edge of her a couple of times, feeling that she was wet and ready for this. One finger slipped inside and she gasped. He looked up at her then, watching as her eyes closed. Slowly, he moved that finger in and out, letting her get used to the sensation. Once she relaxed a bit, he added another. Hermione was breathing steadily, if not deeply, and Draco began to curl his fingers upward, looking for her reaction. When he found it, he continued, despite her thrashing. He continued pumping his fingers inside her, occasionally lashing out at her nipple until she came undone and clenched his fingers tightly, letting out a harsh grunt as she did so.

He waited a moment, softly moving with her inner walls, until he felt that she was relaxed somewhat after her orgasm. Withdrawing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked them off. Hermione looked shocked at this, but Draco's eyes were closed and he seemed to be enjoying it.

"Are you still with me?" His eyes were liquid fire as he looked up the plane of her body.

"Yes."

Draco nodded, then reached down for his boxers. Hermione watched him carefully. When they were off and he was bare, she couldn't help but stare at him. There he was, nestled in a patch of blonde curls. Unsure of herself, she reached out to touch him.

"It's okay." He placed his hand over hers and moved it toward his erection. She wrapped her fingers around it and was surprised at how soft the skin was. Draco moved her hand a few times, showing her the right amount of pressure to use and then backed off, letting her be. Much like anything else Hermione Granger attempts, she was a quick study. Fascinated, she leaned in and was watching the skin ripple around the head as she twisted and tugged. Draco groaned at the sensations and at watching this woman play with him, no—with any man for the first time.

"Hermione, stop." She looked scared for a moment.

"Does it hurt? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. Just if you keep doing that, we won't get to anything else." She caught on to his meaning and with an open-mouthed "oh" returned to her place on the bed. He kissed her gently, lingering there for a moment. "Are you ready?" It was quiet, unsure even for him.

She waited. Her response was measured and when she said it, she was looking directly into his eyes. "Yes, Draco. He shivered at hearing his name.

There was a moment of shifting as Draco maneuvered his lithe body around hers and nudged her thighs farther part. One hand reached down and rubbed along her leg, reassuring her that she was safe. As he leaned forward, she felt him rub up and down along her folds. Her hands were wrapped around his upper arms, an intense gaze locked between them. Draco's eyes never wavered as he tilted his pelvis, found her, and began sliding in. There was a brief moment of uncertainty in Hermione's eyes before he was fully seated and he breathed in deep with her, pushing past and watching as she shuddered beneath him. They lay there for a moment, one of her legs wrapped around his waist and the other laying open on the bed.

She tried to remember how to breathe. In those few moments, there was just too much to think about. Draco could see her mind whirring around and before she could drift away from him, he leaned down, captured her mouth with his own, and pulled partly out. She gasped into the kiss, feeling every pull and aching delight as he moved within her. When he came back to her, he watched as she continued her open-mouthed gasping. He built a slow rhythm then, allowing her to just feel him drive forward, grinding his hips downward with every forward thrust.

Hermione began her silent exploration of his body then. Hands moving, nails dragging along his back, and even an encouraging grab to his firm buttock as he made a particularly rough thrust had her moaning beneath him. Draco concentrated on trying to ignoring his own sensations, thinking errant thoughts when it got too intense. For those few, sweet moments when he felt them syncing up and he listened to her gasping into the hollow of his neck, he very nearly lost himself. He could feel her tightening around his shaft, her breathing coming quicker and her hands becoming more erratic.

It seemed to happen all at once—she leaned forward, bit down at the nape of his neck while letting out a guttural cry and coming completely undone around him. This spurred him on, his own thrusting getting faster. She whimpered beneath him, arching into his chest and clawing at his back as if holding more tightly could ground her to this moment, this place. One particularly rough drag of her nails across upper back saw him spilling into her with a muffled grunt and a few last frenzied pulses of his hips.

In the moments after it was over, Draco placed a tender kiss atop her forehead, another on each eye, and then finally, a heated kiss where their tongues said the words they could not. So many emotions roiled through them both. When they had calmed, he pulled out of her and lay to the side, pulling her close. Neither had any desire to move.

"Draco?" Hermione whispered.

"Yea?"

"What if I don't get pregnant right away?"

He was silent for a moment. "We were paired for a reason, Hermione. Most couples have gotten pregnant within a month. I think they're giving us fertility potions, to be honest."

"And if I don't?"

"We'll deal with that when it comes." He wiped the sweat-streaked hair from her brow. "For now, just rest. We've done more than they had any right to ask."

"Draco?"

"Yea?"

"Will you stay with me?"

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 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	2. The First Night (Number 2)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: The First Night** **(Number 2)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: One Shot  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Threats, and Potential Non-Consensual Sex Alluded to**

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 **The First Night**

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Draco slid silently into his family's dining room, undisturbed to find the room was already nearly filled. He wouldn't have to fight for a chair. It seemed that the closest of Voldemort's Death Eaters had the honor of sitting around the Malfoy's antique dining room table. The rest of the Death Eaters stood along the walls and windows, casual. Draco fought and won against the urge to shudder when Greyback looked at him, pacing from his place beyond the inner circle. Everyone stood as the side door opened, Voldemort sweeping in with Severus Snape flanking him. Draco looked at Voldemort, his gaze stopping just before landing on the red eyes and slits for a nose.

"Ssssit my loyal followerssss," Voldemort's voice crept along Draco's spine, cold like a single finger from a Dementor. Draco shivered slightly, covering up the reaction by sitting down in the plush chair. Severus narrowed his eyes slightly, and Draco averted his eyes quick to the table. He wanted to scratch the Dark Mark that marred his once perfect, pale alabaster arm. He frowned slightly, the slightest twitch of an eyebrow.

"Master you said you'd bring entertainment for us to enjoy," growled Greyback.

"Patient my pup," Voldemort taunted. Laughter rippled around the room, almost covering up Greyback's discontent growl. "My Bella is down in the dungeon retrieving tonight's entertainment."

Draco shuddered at the looks and smirks that were shared between the closest Death Eaters. They always had first pick of playthings, a perk of the hierarchy system. Draco felt his stomach roll slightly. He had avoided participating so far.

"This one is going to be fun," cackled Bellatrix as she backed into the room. Draco whipped his head around, unable to keep his disinterest as a swearing, screaming, kicking waif of girl was drug by her head of wild, tangle brown curls. Bellatrix fisted the hair, using the mess as a handle to drag the girl through the door. Unrestrained, tiny hands reached up, trying to claw free of Bellatrix's grip.

"Mmm, I do like them feisty," Draco heard his Uncle Rodolphus murmur appreciatively to his right. Draco clutched his hands under the table, making two fists. He was disgusted by the man. He was disgusted by the whole lot of them.

"Draco, didn't you got to school with this one?" Cackled Bellatrix, gripping the face of the girl and forcing her to face Draco. Clutched between Bellatrix's clawed hands, dirt-streaked and red face was none other than Hermione Granger. Draco swore silently.

"Yeah," he forced out, his voice even. He almost sounded bored. "Potter's Mudblood." Voldemort's eyes flashed excitedly.

"Oh, thissss isss a lovely turn of eventssss," Voldemort hissed, clapping his hands almost excitedly. Draco smirked, the sight almost ridiculous. "What shall we do with the little Mudblood?"

"Give 'er to me! I'd love to get a taste of Potter's Mudblood," Greyback laughed, the sound more bark like than human. He leaned close as Bellatrix walked with Hermione around the table, the struggling girl on display.

"I do like them young," another, Dolohov, said running his finger through the grime and blood that had congealed on Hermione's neck to the top buttons of her shirt. He tugged hard on the shirt popping all in one swift movement. He laughed. "Oops."

"Vile, disgusting…" Hermione spat at Dolohov, saliva catching him square in the face.

"Oh you are going to look mighty fine tied to my bed, you filthy Mudblood," Dolohov laughed wiping the spit off his face. "I might even let you swallow."

Bellatrix laughed harder, jerking the girl along to the next. Draco kept his eyes on Hermione as she was drug around the room by her face and hair, presented as a potential present to each and every Death Eater. She tried to pull her shirt closed around her too thin frame, but that earned her taunting and a complete removal of her shirt by Mulciber. Draco looked away as Nott Sr. groped the thin scraps of cloth of a bra that offered little modesty to Hermione. Draco's eyes met Severus' and though his godfather was excellent at occlumency, Draco could nearly read his mind.

Draco looked away quickly. He didn't want to see that look in his godfather's eyes. He didn't want to play hero for anyone or anything. He didn't even want to be there, in that house, with these people. If was honest with himself, he wasn't even sure that if he could escape he'd bring along his father.

"She smells like a virgin," Greyback howled with laughter. Bellatrix grinned and lifted Hermione, slamming her hard on the table in front of Voldemort.

"My lord, maybe a good ol' game of pass the Mudblood?" Bellatrix suggested, her wand immobilizing Hermione on the table not far from Draco. Her eyes were on him and if there were any feelings behind them, they should have set Draco on fire. Not even Potter at his worst ever looked at him with so much anger and pure hatred.

"You do love your gamessss," Voldemort's laughter hiss along the table, the Death Eaters joining in.

"I want first dibs. It's been a while since I've had a virgin," Rabastan traced a circle on Hermione's knee cap.

"You got the last one," Dolohov argued. "I deserve this one."

"There's enough to share boys," Bellatrix traced her wand along Hermione's thigh, stopping at the ripped hem of her skirt. "We've shared well before."

"I don't understand why LeStrange gets the Mudblood," Dolohov growled.

"Perhapsss, Greyback would like to do the honorsss of popping the cork on the Mudblood," Voldemort suggested, his hand stroking Nagini's raised head. Draco felt the bile rolling in his stomach. He didn't want to see this. He didn't want to sit there while Greyback mounted the table and destroyed Hermione from within.

Greyback was already disrobing, removing his tattered pants with their rope belt being cast aside. Draco could hear Greyback's claws marring the mirror finish of the table as he hoisted himself up on the table.

"Stop!" Draco shouted out. The room went dead silent, everyone's head whipping to look at Draco standing there beside the table.

"Yesss?" Voldemort replied.

"I wish to claim the Mudblood," Draco's voice didn't betray the cold fear he felt in his veins.

"You?" sneered Greyback.

"My Draco, you wish to have her firsssst?" Voldemort watched Draco's face carefully. Draco kept his eyes on Voldemort's, though the desire to look away was almost palpable.

"I wish to claim the Mudblood as a bride, for my use only," Draco was confident, steady. He sounded almost bored, as if claiming one of a million rolls at dinner.

Outrage from his aunt and uncle were drowned out by the outrage of his father and the other Death Eaters. Draco stood there, still, calm, as a storm of "Mudblood", "filth", and "dishonor" echoed from the vaulted stone ceilings. Voldemort raised one of his long, pale hands and the room fell silent immediately.

"You have feelingsss?" Voldemort asked. Draco laughed.

"Absolutely not. She's only a Mudblood," Draco replied coolly.

"You wish to sully your blood line, then." Voldemort glanced at Lucius Malfoy almost knowingly. It was no secret that Lucius had fallen slightly out of Voldemort's graces.

"It's not that, my Lord," Draco dipped his head slightly in a sign of deep admiration. "She's not just any Mudblood. She's Potter's Mudblood. He would go to the ends of the earth to save her."

"Then bait with fun?" Voldemort questioned.

"Something like that, my Lord. Potter loves her, and it would absolutely kill him to know I was bedding her every night as my wife," Draco said calmly. "As much as he doesn't like you, he's absolutely hated me longer. Ever since we were eleven."

"And you plan to stay married to the Mudblood?" Bellatrix spat. "You plan to have her muddy our bloodline and bring her Mudblood spawn into the world while we take over completely?"

"Absolutely not, my dear aunt," Draco's voice didn't betray the sour way those words felt in his mouth. "Nothing would please me more than to stand before Potter and slit her throat. As for Mudblood spawn, that would only make the scene more enticing. Her round and heavy with child, I her husband, facing off in front of Potter and taking away from him the one girl he's loved all his life."

"You think I need help defeating Potter? You don't think I can do this on my own?" Voldemort's voice sounded colder than even before. His eyes flashed with the rage bubbling up.

"I know you can, my Lord," Draco bowed again slightly. "I only wish to torture the girl and Potter. The girl would absolutely hate submitting to my needs every night, because of our history. And I'd love to stick it to Potter that I got his girl. When the time comes, I'll dispose of her so that I can marry properly."

"Luciussss? What ssssay you?" Voldemort turned his attention to the man standing off. Lucius looked nervous, touching his ascot slightly.

"My Lord, your will be done," Lucius offered with a stiff bow.

"Excellent," Voldemort clapped his hands once. "Greyback, this one isss Draco's."

"But you said-" Greyback challenged, still naked from the waist down and nearly hovering over Hermione's prone form. Voldemort flicked his wand, causing the werewolf to fly off the table.

"No animals on the furniture," Bellatrix laughed heartily. Everyone joined in while Greyback growled and jerked his pants back on, suddenly deflated.

"Wormtail! Go with Yaxley and make sure the papers are filed properly. Draco, you may take your Mudblood upstairs and get better acquainted," Voldemort dismissed. Draco nodded once.

"Thank you, my Lord," Draco offered.

"Your reward for Dumbledore," Voldemort said waving his hand out the door. Bellatrix removed the spell she had pinning Hermione to the table. Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"You foul mouth-" Hermione slapped Draco hard in the face. He rubbed it, smiling coldly at her.

"I'm going to enjoy breaking you, over and over until you don't know what side is light and what side is darkness," Draco threatened, loud enough for Voldemort to hear but not at full volume. He took her arm and drug her kicking and screaming to the door way.

"You have your work cut out for you," called Dolohov cheerfully. "Let us know if you want us to lend a hand or cock." The room roared with laughter as Draco shoved Hermione through the door and it swung closed behind them.

"Let me go!" Hermione demanded, trying to resist Draco's motions to get her up the stairs.

"Shut up," Draco demanded, shoving her through his bedroom door before dropping her arm. He warded the door.

"Don't you tell me to shut up you pompous, arrogant-"

"Hero?" Draco suggested as Hermione sputtered to think of another word. She rounded on him, glaring.

"Hero? Ha! You've gone dumb with all the time you've spent with Crabbe and Goyle, haven't you? You're no hero. Harry's a hero. You're no hero. A hero is someone who-"

"Saves the girl from being raped by a werewolf before being passed around to every Death Eater under this roof?" Draco reminded angrily. "Yeah, I'm no bloody hero, am I?"

"I…" Hermione's voice trailed off. "They wouldn't… would they?"

"You wouldn't be the first. You won't be the last." Draco said simply. Hermione looked horrified, her eye welling up with tears.

"I…" Hermione bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

"You do understand what I'm giving up?" Draco asked.

"I didn't ask you to!" Hermione threw back at him. "You're only doing this to stick it to Harry."

"I admit, that is a perk," Draco smirked. The smile fell from his face. "As soon as the papers are filed, we're married. You belong to me."

"But I didn't agree to…" Hermione countered.

"Magic law," Draco shook his head. "Just like I don't have to have the approval of a house-elf to take ownership, a wizard doesn't HAVE to have the permission of a witch to have her bound to me."

"It's marriage rape!" Hermione flung at him angrily. "Kidnapping! Coercion!"

"It's uncommon in this day and age, but as a lesser witch, you have fewer rights to contest it. As a Mudblood, you have little to no rights when a pure blood decides to claim you. It happens so rarely, though," Draco forced his hand through his hair.

"Because pure bloods don't marry Mudbloods," Hermione finished the unspoken rule.

"Not typically, no," Draco shook his head.

"But you plan on killing me? When the time is right?" Hermione asked.

"I plan on doing whatever needs to be done to stay alive, Granger," Draco said bitterly. Hermione nodded once, understanding. He sighed. "Look, I don't want to harm you. I don't want to harm anyone. But if it comes down to my life or yours, I'm going to choose me every time."

"I understand," Hermione frowned.

"While we're in this house and you're my wife, you are protected from even being looked at funny by any of the Death Eaters," Draco reminded her.

"But I have to sleep with you? This is a real marriage?" Hermione asked, her lip quivering beyond her ability and desire to control it.

"There are worse things," Draco replied softly. Hermione began to cry. Draco sighed. "The marriage will have to be consummated in the next 48 hours, otherwise someone can challenge the validity and attempt to stake claim. Trust me when I say you don't want that, Hermione."

Hermione wailed loudly.

"What now?" Draco asked, taken aback.

"You called me Hermione. Not Granger, not Potter's Mudblood. You called me by my name," Hermione forced through the racking sobs.

"That is your name. Plus, by now, Yaxley and Wormtail should be at the ministry, filing the last of the papers. You're a Malfoy now."

"A Malfoy?" Hermione cried harder.

"Maybe… maybe a nice, long bath?" Draco suggested, gathering one of his button up shirts out of the dresser and pointing to the door off to the side. Hermione nodded once, leading the way into the bathroom. He placed the shirt on the counter and began to run the bath, a large tub that made the prefect bathrooms back at Hogwarts look like wading pools.

Draco snapped his fingers once. A sharp crack and a house elf with the Malfoy family crest emblazed on her toga appeared. Hermione glared at Malfoy.

"I don't need your family's house elf," Hermione growled. The house elf looked wounded.

"Mistress doesn't want Starry? Starry is a bad house elf that her mistress doesn't want her." The house elf sniffled.

"No, no! Starry!" Draco grabbed the elf before she could do anything to herself. He glared at Hermione. "Starry isn't my family's elf. Starry is MY house elf. A very practical gift on the seventh birthday… and my first friend. You will be polite to her, Hermione, and respect her. Starry, can you help my bride ready for jus primae noctris?"

"Yes my boy," Starry said cheerfully. "I will make her clean and beautiful for you. She will shine like Orion to your Draco, or bright like Sirius!"

"If it'll make you happy, Starry, you may even tame that rat's nest upon her head," Draco laughed as Hermione scowled.

"Not a rat's nest, my cruel boy. She can't help to never have had Starry tend her before," Starry's giant gold eyes sparkled with mischief and love for her master. "Mistress's tresses will be so soft and silky I daresay you'll be unable to keep your hands out of it. Now, go! Go! Let Starry do her magic on Mistress."

"You have your work cut out for you. I'll be by the fire. I need to think," Draco exited the bathroom as Hermione and Starry struggled to see who was responsible for removing Hermione's tattered rags.

Draco stopped short to see his parents and his godfather standing in his room. His father looked furious, his mother sad, and Severus stood stoic, looking at the young Death Eater before him. Lucius jerked his head.

"Where is the Mudblood?" Lucius' voice spat the words at his only son.

"Hermione is in the bath," Draco was quiet.

"You're providing her comfort?! A Mudblood finding comfort under the House of Malfoy?!" Lucius growled.

"I won't dignify that with a response," Draco crossed his arms.

"You have to sleep with her," Lucius gagged on his words. "You have to sully yourself with a Mudblood. Why, Draco? Why this girl? And don't tell me to taunt Potter. I don't believe it for a second."

"It's my business," Draco said coolly.

"I had hoped for a grandchild," Narcissa moaned sadly, her hands clutched around a handkerchief. "A shining beacon of light in these dark times." She dabbed at her eyes.

"Mother, please…" Draco sighed.

"A grandchild! Your mother had her heart set on a grandchild! And now she'll never have the chance," Lucius shouted.

"Did you not listen? I will marry my blood status' worth," Draco waved away the words. "I'll kill the Mudblood when the time is right."

"Promise?" Narcissa asked hopefully.

"Willing to make an unbreakable vow?" Lucius challenged.

"No." Draco shook his head. "No promises and no vow."

"See! I knew there was-"

"No, father. I won't take the vow and I won't make promises. We're at war. Anything could happen to the Mudblood," Draco cut his father off with a gesture. "Now, if you don't mind. I'm sure by now I'm a married man and I need to consummate the union."

"I can't believe you're going to let it touch you," Lucius shuddered as he made his way toward the door.

"Let me make something clear," Draco lowered his voice to a dangerous level. "No one will touch a hair on her head without my permission. No dirty looks or words under your breath. She is for my entertainment only. When I'm not around, she will remain in my room and no one is to enter without my expressed permission. Is that clear?"

"As if we want to be near your Mudblood," Lucius spat as he stormed out of the room. Narcissa hesitated.

"I'll be along Narcissa. I wish to have a private word with my godson," Severus urged the woman out the door before closing it and turning to face Draco. "You did the right thing."

"I know," Draco nodded once.

"Have her drink this," Severus fished a phial out of his pocket; a dark pearly liquid shimmered inside.

"What is it?" Draco asked tilting the glass slightly.

"I think you know what it is," Severus said knowingly. "I have one for you, too. Maybe it'll help it be a little more pleasant for the both of you. The first time is rarely pleasant."

"I don't know that I want to…"

"Just take them, Draco. Don't be difficult," Hermione whispered as she stood gripping the door jam.

"Hermione," Draco's widened eyes were the only give away that he'd been startled by her appearance. She was still frail, thin, but with all the blood and dirt scrubbed away, with Starry's magic with a brush, she looked human. Starry had lengthened Draco's button up to a respectable length.

"Draco, let's not play games and lie to ourselves," Hermione stayed put. "It's going to be awful."

"It's not going to be that bad," Draco countered frowning.

"As much as I would love to sit and talk sex with two of my students, I really must go," Severus headed to the door.

"Professor, wait!" Hermione called, raising her hand.

"Hermione, please," Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not your professor any longer."

"Severus," Hermione begged. "Do you have any contraceptive potion or pain potion?"

"Do I look like a walking chemist to you?" Severus raised an eyebrow. He sighed and reached into his pocket once more, handing Draco a few more phials. "They're labeled."

"Thank you, sir," nodded Hermione once.

"Thank you, Severus," Draco gripped them carefully.

"Good luck, you too, and may Salazar have mercy on your souls," Severus swept out of the room with a flourish, closing the door behind him with a loud click. Draco threw his wards up to prevent anyone at all entering. He knew Starry would be able to come and go as she pleased, but the house elf would remain in the kitchens until Draco summoned her. After.

"May I please take the contraceptive potion now," Hermione asked. Draco held the phial out to her.

"Don't want to risk a child with me, eh?" Draco said as she uncorked and drank deeply. She shuddered almost violently against the taste.

"Not any more than you do with me," Hermione said.

"You seem calmer about this whole situation," Draco pointed out. Hermione frowned slightly.

"I weighed the pros and cons, the different possibilities and outcomes. This choice is the only one that even slightly gives me a fighting chance at surviving and not being too damaged after the war is won by Harry," Hermione saw Draco open his mouth in protest and she shook her head. "No, Harry will win the war. Good will triumph over evil."

"I was only going to say that I hope you're right," Draco frowned and turned away, holding the Amortentia phials in his hand. He held one out to her before uncorking it and breathing deeply.

"Draco, I'd rather… I'd rather not," Hermione shook her head as she handed it back. "I want to be sober my first time."

"Why? It's going to be painful and…"

"I just want to, okay?" Hermione snapped. "Look, I get it. Lesser of two evils and I'm so grateful beyond words can express, but I need for the pain to remind me that I am still alive. It's hard to explain." Hermione touched her bandaged arm, the cursed blade that carved 'Mudblood' was still sheathed on his aunt, Draco was sure. It was already an aged cut, but infection had set in and he knew it must be the pain she was referring to. Feeling pain, to her, meant she was still alive and he respected whatever mechanism she needed to cope with.

He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want her to hurt. Draco's realization startled him.

"Okay," Draco re-corked his as well. He placed it on the side table. He would ignore, for now, the scent of cherry blossoms and old parchment.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked quietly. "What do you get out of it?"

"Aside from the sex?" Draco quipped. Hermione smirked.

"Aside from that, yeah? I've known you since we were all eleven. You don't do anything that you don't get something out of, and I refuse to believe its just sex. You're Draco Malfoy, a pure blood and the youngest Death Eater in so many years. I'm sure girls lay down at your feet."

"Hermione, you flatter me," Draco teased. He stopped grinning. "It will get out that you and I are wed, and that you've given yourself to me. It will provide a certain amount of protection for me. The side of the light will be careful to not catch you in the crosshairs. Which is why I plan on staying by your side as much as I can; I protect you from Death Eaters, and you protect me from The Order."

"I'm just one person. They're not going to do anything special to-"

"Don't delude yourself. Harry loves you," Draco said almost bitterly.

"It's not like that!" Hermione protested.

"He loves you and you love him back," Draco frowned at the words.

"I… I do love him, Draco. He's my best friend. He's the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. But that's all it is between us," Hermione urged. "Familiar love."

"I'd rather not talk about him," Draco snapped.

"You brought him up, not me!" Hermione protested angrily.

"Let's just focus on what needs to be done now, okay?" Draco said after a minute, the flush of anger fresh in Hermione's cheeks.

"Fine," she said crossing her arms.

"I guess, get into bed?" Draco glanced at the bed. "I sleep on the left."

"Fine," Hermione walked to the right side of the large four poster bed, pulling back the green and silver draping.

"Are you nervous?" Draco asked as he slowly undressed, watching her hesitate at the bedside. Hermione looked up and shook her head.

"No," she lied biting her lip. She cleared her throat and sounded more certain. "Are you?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Draco laughed, standing before her in just his boxers.

"Why?" Hermione asked, glancing down at his shorts as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband.

"It's my first time, too, Hermione," Draco reminded her. He yanked his shorts down and Hermione gasped, clutching the front of her shirt. Draco looked up to see the blaze of embarrassment in her cheeks and the fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Draco. I don't know if that's all going to fit," Hermione squeaked out. Draco glanced down.

"It gets bigger. When it's awake, you know?" Draco glanced at her go pale. She looked like she was about to pass out and Draco ran to her side, grabbing her before she did. He eased her into bed. "Rethinking the Amortentia?"

"N-no," she stammered. "Rethinking sex all together."

"Sorry, but I don't think we have much choice," Draco chuckled. "Plus I have it on great authority that girls are adept at taking them regardless of size."

"Blaise's sexcapades do not count as 'on great authority', Draco," Hermione challenged. "Nor does Pansy's high occupancy pussy."

"Filthy mouth," Draco taunted with a grin. "Such a turn on. See?"

"No, Draco, I will not look at it again! I already steeled my nerves that it's going inside me. I won't scare myself anymore," Hermione refused, shaking her head as she stared up at the canopy above her. "Can we do this already?"

"Impatient much?" Draco asked. "You need to at least take off your bottoms."

"I'm… I'm not wearing bottoms. Starry took them," Hermione blurted out, her face on fire. "And I'd rather keep my shirt on. I'll pull it up so not to stain it. Do you think we should put a towel down?"

"No," Draco shook his head as he climbed into the bed next to her.

"But Draco, I've read that sex, especially the first time, can be very messy. Bloody," Hermione explained.

"That's kind of the point," Draco nodded once. "It's why the sheets are new. White. When we're done, they'll be presented as proof we consummated. And no, we can't just have you cut your finger and bleed all over the sheet and me cum on them. They'll be tested, magically, and then hung up like a banner to say _'Jus Primae Noctris'_. It's a deeply rooted, symbolic, Pure Blood tradition."

"Pure Bloods are weird," Hermione made a face as her eyes met his.

"Yeah, well, you muggleborns are weird too. I mean, seriously. Who hand packs things?" Draco teased.

"People without house elves, I suppose," Hermione shrugged.

"Okay, well, I guess we should do this," Draco said after a long and awkward pause.

"Guess so," Hermione replied stiffly.

"I'll try to be gentle, okay?" Draco promised.

"Okay," Hermione nodded once. Draco crawled to her side of his large bed, slipping under the blanket. He hesitated, uncertain what the next natural step would be. Knowing she wore just a shirt under his blanket had him ready; he just wasn't sure how to start.

"How do we start?" Draco asked. Hermione glanced at him.

"Did Blaise ever say?" Hermione asked. Draco shook his head.

"It's Blaise. He just falls into…" Draco laughed. "I guess I should at least be on top, huh? Maybe I'll just fall in."

"Just fall in? That's so what a girl wants to hear," Hermione groaned shaking her head in disbelief. Still, she parted her legs as Draco positioned himself above her.

"I didn't mean like that," Draco promised. "I only meant that it's easy for him. Maybe if I was in the right position, it'd be easy for me to figure out."

"Well, if what I've read it correct, we're at least in the right position," Hermione replied, staring straight up at the canopy again. "I know that if I tense up, it'll be worse but I can't help but tense up thinking about you impaling me and it's a vicious cycle. The fear of pain; I was reading Artemis Conner's book 'Embracing Your Fears' about using techniques to take your mind off of the fears but I can't for the life remember what any of those techniques are."

"Hermione, you're rambling," Draco pointed out needlessly.

"I'm nervous," she said simply.

"Remember when you punched me in third year?" Draco asked.

"Vaguely…" Hermione replied, looking away from the canopy and making eye contact with him. Her eyes narrowed with suspicious.

Draco dipped his head down, capturing her lips with his before parting them and slowly, carefully invading her mouth. He caressed her cheek with his hand, careful to not touch the bruised and cut places. Hermione whimpered softly as Draco pulled back.

"You like?" Draco asked cheekily. Hermione reached up, burying a hand in his hair and jerked his head down to her. He chuckled as she wrapped both arms around him to keep him to her, mouths meeting. He could feel her thighs on the outside of his hips. He knew it was now or never. He reached between them, ignoring the way she jumped as his knuckles brushed her thigh.

Draco gripped himself firmly, debating to take a few starter strokes to make things go quickly or not. He pressed against her, surprised to find her as ready as he was. He groaned loudly against her mouth. He slowly eased himself against her, fighting the primal urge to go hard and fast. He hadn't gotten very far when he felt he tense and pull back with a gasp.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be," he whispered. "I've been waiting for this for four years."

"Wait, what?" Hermione's eyes shot open wide as Draco plunged fully into her, causing Hermione to cry out loudly. He stilled himself against the urge to pound away at her. Instead, he waited until the tension left her body as he kissed her.

"I'm going to start moving again," Draco murmured against her lips. He eased himself out of her, until just the tip remained inside her. He gasped as he slid in her, no longer hindered by her virginity. He moved again, slowly feeling the build of climax.

"Draco," Hermione whispered against his ear, hot. His cheek pressed to hers, his grunts echoing in the semi-darkness of the room. His breathing was labored, the ache almost unbearable as he picked up tempo.

She moaned loudly as one of his hands snaked under his shirt, cupping her breast. Her lips brushed against his ear, it nearly made him come undone at the seams.

"Fuck Hermione," He gasped as she moved her hips ever so slightly to accommodate him deeper. Her hands went to his bare back, pressing her fingers hard into his shoulders to hold him to her. He knew he'd have to get her to grow out her nails, that the biting feeling would be amazing. He was so close now. So ready.

Every moan between them drove him closer to the precipice. He wanted to see her, all of her, taste her. Pulled his face away from hers, he pulled his hand free of her shirt, delighted by the sound of protest that escaped Hermione's lips. He gripped the shirt and tore it open, sending buttons popping and exposing the supple flesh of her breasts.

"Draco…" she whispered in warning.

"Oh Fuck Hermione," he groaned, still moving faster inside her. He clamped his mouth down on one of her breasts, sucking the nipple into his mouth. She bucked against him, her legs splayed wide. He felt her clench around him and his pace became erratically fast. He was headed to the point of no return, his mind clouded. He sucked harder on her nipples, letting his tongue caress wet circles on them.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, he remembered Blaise mentioning a spot on a girl that made them shatter into a million pieces of bliss. Draco was almost there but he wanted to drag Hermione along with him for the ride. He slid his hand between them, sliding his fingers until he felt the place where he ended and she began. He paused his roving hand for a moment, in awe at the way his body disappeared in her over and over.

"Just north," he could hear the distant memory of Blaise's too graphic descriptions. "You'll know when you've reached it."

"Draco what are you doing?" Hermione panted. His thumb remained against her intimately.

"Playing with my beautiful wife," he moaned, removing himself from her breasts to rest his cheek against hers. He wanted to hear and feel each moan.

"What?" she managed before his thumb found its pearly prize. Her gasp confirmed it, and as he drew deliberate circles, he felt her drenching him. Her moans gave way to gasps and cries. He hardened. She widened, and the slick of sweat coated them as the pressure built.

"Oh fuck me Draco!" Hermione screamed as she came around him. It was his undoing and he felt himself go into full throttle mode, pounding hard at her, aided by the slick juices drenching her. He snaked his arms under her, using his hands to hold her in place while he went mad with desire.

When he came, he saw stars. He felt the tell-tale clench before the release and he held himself deep in her, only moving slightly to aid in the torrents of seed he spilled. He collapsed on top of her, exhausted. He fancied himself in good shape, but he was sore, spent. Satiated.

For the first time that he could remember, he felt satiated. Their breaths came in gasps, hearts racing against the actions of the night. He pulled up slightly, the sticky feeling as he shrank out of her body nothing compared to the way her bare breasts felt against his chest. He was spent, but he wanted to do this again.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied after a moment. He wondered if she mentally probed herself to check for differences. She was the same Hermione. She was a different Hermione. "Are you?"

"Yes," Draco nodded.

"Was it… okay?" Hermione asked hesitantly as she remained there, him hovering slightly over her. He peeled himself off of her, pulling the shirt to cover her slightly.

"Okay?" Draco cocked his head to the side.

"I mean, I know, it was our first time. There's bound to be a learning curve," Hermione rambled. Draco laughed.

"Hermione, it was great. Amazing. Think we could forgo the rest of the war and just do that instead?" Draco teased, lightly kissing her lips.

"While powerful, I don't think sex is the answer," Hermione shook her head. She moved to stand and Draco gave her the space. "Oh, ouch…"

"Here, take the pain potion," Draco scrambled to the phials and grabbed the one for pain, holding it out to her.

"No, no, it's not pain, not really. It's soreness, but in a good way, you know?" Hermione stretched, as if trying out a new body. She glanced at the bed and cringed. Draco's eyes fell to the stain.

"At least we won't have anyone questioning the legitimacy of our marriage," Draco murmured as he rose. "Go take a nice soak. I'll join you in a bit. I want to get the presentation part over with quickly."

"Okay, Draco, but when you get back, I want to talk about what you said about waiting three years for something from me," Hermione nodded once, stopping to kiss his cheek before leaving him to strip the sheet off the bed. He felt the twist of anger and sickness as he balled the sheet up, redressing. Easing out of his bedroom, he placed wards to protect her and the room, before heading where he knew Voldemort would be waiting. Greyback was there, pacing. His father, mother, and godfather waited.

"Done ssssso ssssoon?" Voldemort hissed, his bony claw rubbing Nagini's scaly head almost affectionately.

"It doesn't take long when you know what you're doing," Draco quipped, tossing the sheet on the table. Voldemort didn't seem happy with response.

"Greyback, is it legitimate?" Voldemort asked. The werewolf marched to the table, grabbing the sheet up and sticking his nose in it.

"It smells of the Mudblood, and of him. Blood and sex and ecstasy," Greyback growled. "Legit. I'll go hang it from the front balcony. A beacon of stolen innocence of Potter's Mudblood."

"You pleasured the Mudblood?" Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger once Greyback had departed with the bloodied sheet. Draco looked unconcerned, ignoring the horror on his mother's face, the disgust on his father's, and the stoic look that could have been anything on Severus' face.

"I'm a Malfoy," Draco shrugged slightly. "We bring pleasure, even when we're bringing the pain."

"You told me she was nothing to you, you lied to me. I can smell it on you. You love the Mudblood. Don't deny it. I know all, see all. You have feelings for that filthy Mudblood and tricked me. For that, you must be punished," Voldemort growled. "Avada Ked-"

"Noooo!" Narcissa screamed running towards her son.

"Hey! The runner's back! Someone go tell Harry!" a voice yelled out over the camp as the scout landed his broom and climbed free. Someone forced a flask of pumpkin juice in his hand.

"No, I need something stronger," Fred gasped, pushing it away.

"Fire whisky is in the tent with Harry," George replied, hugging his brother. The two were joined by a group of people following them.

"I'll put your broom away!" called a small voice left behind.

"Thanks," Fred replied exhausted. He'd flown all day and night, returning from a lead. The truth was worse than the rumors that had him leaving behind base camp. He slid through the flap of the tent to find Harry standing around with top members of the Order. In front of them was a large map. Harry looked up. He looked tired, weary.

"Fred, we were afraid something might have happened to you," wailed his mother, embracing him tightly. Fred patted her shoulder.

"There, there, mother, nothing bad's going to happen to me," Fred promised. She sniffled and pulled away, slapping him upside the head.

"Where have you been?! George returned three days ago and said you'd be along shortly. It's been three days," Molly chastised.

"While we were doing recon under polyjuice, I'd gathered some intel about Hermione," Fred said cautiously.

"Mione?" Ron questioned, his attention piqued.

"Yeah, rumor was she's being held at Malfoy Manor," Fred explained. "I confirmed it, but only just so. I barely got out of there alive."

"That git Malfoy has her? We have to rescue her!" Ron demanded. "It's my fault we got split up and we have to go save her."

"I think, for now, it would be best to leave her be," Fred said quietly.

"What?!" Harry and Ron raged.

"The Malfoy house is flying the Jus Primae Noctris banner," Fred frowned slightly.

"No!" Ron yelled angrily, upending a chair and stormed out of the tent.

"What's a 'juice prima noctris' banner?" Harry asked.

"Jus Primae Noctris is also known as a bride's first night, usually taken by a feudal lord over a lesser being. For Pure Bloods, it's rare because none would willingly or unwillingly take a muggleborn as a bride. The banner is the sheet from their marital bed, covered in her virginal blood," explained Remus quietly. "Blood spilled at the moment she ceased to be pure. It's hung for the world to know that a bride has been claimed."

"So… Hermione?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"She's been taken as someone's bride," Fred confirmed. "I couldn't gleam much from the people I passed, and I only had enough polyjuice for an hour. I never saw her."

"How do you know it was Hermione? I mean, it could be anyone!" Harry protested. Fred shook his head and swallowed.

"They never named Hermione, but how many girls really could be referred to as ' _Potter's Mudblood_ ', Harry? No, I never saw her but I'm certain it was Hermione," Fred hung his head.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry hung his head. "I know the likes that hang around Malfoy and his family, I can only hope that it was Malfoy who took her-"

"What? No!" Ron had returned to hear it. "Not Malfoy! He's vile! He's evil!"

"He's her best hope!" Harry snapped at Ron. "We will rescue her, I swear to Godric we will, but right now Draco is Hermione's best hope at surviving."

"There's more," Fred said quietly.

"More? Honestly, I don't know how much more we can get in bad news right now," Harry sighed as he rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

"Voldemort got mad about something, I don't know what, and he Avada'ed a Malfoy," Fred almost whispered. "Something that had happened that night that Draco consummated his and Hermione's marriage, I was already risking staying there a moment longer. I don't know who, and I don't know what. If I'd had just a few minutes more, I could have… should have…"

"No, no," Harry shook his head. "You did so much already, Fred, thank you. At least we know she's alive, and that's good enough. Whatever's happened to her, we will rescue her. We will save her. Whatever happened, we will fix this. Everything will be okay."

"I'm sorry." Fred wept.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	3. Polyjuice Mishap (Number 3)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Polyjuice Mishap (Number 3)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: Romance, Mystery, Dark Humor  
Pairing: Draco/Hermione  
Trigger Warnings: Dark, magical highs, abuse, sexual scenes**

* * *

 **Polyjuice Mishap**

* * *

The bickering was grating on Hermione's nerves, was that all they were able to accomplish at these meetings? She crossed her arms over her chest absently noticing the way her Gryffindor tie wasn't quite even. A muscle twitched by her eye as she itched to fix it. It was always a challenge to abstain from perfecting things.

That brought her attention squarely back on the group assembled. Belinda Clearwater and Terrence Higgs were easy enough to get along with, it was the two Slytherins that got under her skin— _Zabini and Malfoy_. She smoothed her gray jumper over her white Oxford and stood up.

"Alright everyone," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Chang placed _us_ in charge of the decorations for the Sweetheart dance, surely that's not too much for the five of us?"

"This Puff wants us to charm clouds around the ceiling," Zabini whined, gesturing to Clearwater. "Next, she'll want us to transfigure little angels with bows and arrows."

"How pathetically Muggle," said Malfoy.

"They're called cupids," she said distractedly. "And maybe we should transfigure them to trees."

"Trees?" Malfoy asked with a grimace. "That hardly fits the _Sweetheart_ theme."

"But it's romantic," Hermione argued. "Or at least, it will be once we've attracted fairies to be the evening's décor."

"What would you know about romance, Granger? I hardly think you're an expert in the area."

Hermione tried not to bristle at the insult. _Malfoy, baiting me again. Must he always disagree with everything I suggest? So bloody confrontational!_

Instinctively, Hermione shot a glance at him. He looked ever the Pureblood with his aristocratic features, platinum locks, and haughty stare, still—there was something so definitely different this year.

Had he become gaunt since coming home from break? Paler still? She could not be sure, only she did sense a change. Feeling his cool, silvery gaze, she nearly jumped when she realized she'd been staring, and not even subtly so.

Attempting to regain her bearings, she took a deep breath. Malfoy would _not_ make a fool of her… _again_. She was tired of the snickers from the other prefects. She simply had to appeal to his rational side.

"Look, Malfoy," she began. "Do you want to be here _all_ night again? Or won't you help us figure this out? The dance is only a week away. We have to iron out the details once and for all."

He fixed her with his trademark smirk, and Hermione felt a blush creep up her neck. No matter how much she deplored that god-forsaken smirk, it always did funny things to her. "Lead on, Granger."

"Right then," she said. "We've already agreed on most of the decorations, we simply need to figure out a few things."

"We can charm the trees pink or red," suggested Higgs.

"Brilliant!"

"What about Flitterbies?" asked Clearwater. "We can get them along with the fairies."

"Flitterbies are easy enough to come by, but how will we get fairies?" Malfoy queried.

"Hmm," Hermione said pensively before managing a solution. "How about you conjure mirrors and take them through the Forbidden Forest? Fairies are known for their vanity. You can place a sticking charm on the mirrors. Of course they'll be right at home in the trees we conjure."

"Phat chance of _that_ happening," Malfoy said.

"Alright," Hermione placated. "You can get the Flitterbies, then."

"Easy enough," replied Draco. "I'll just raid Snape's Potions cupboard."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Hermione muttered.

"Typical Granger; not opposed to breaking the rules so long as it suits her."

"I just implied I was opposed to it, _Malfoy_ ," she sneered. "As usual; you only hear what you want to hear!"

"Easy, Granger," Zabini said, stepping between them. "Let's get back on track. Any ideas for refreshments?"

Hermione sat back down on the desk. _He succeeded in making me lose my temper yet again_.

"On the chair, Granger, not the desk," Malfoy admonished. Hermione ignored his order and proceeded to stare daggers at the blond wizard.

"We've got a lot of candies coming from Honeydukes," Clearwater said happily. "Not to mention treacle fudge tarts, toffee pudding, custard and pumpkin tarts, and trifles from the kitchens."

"Sounds like we're solid there." Hermione nodded approvingly, already forgetting her anger. "Now, for the drinks—."

"Blaise has that sorted," Malfoy interrupted.

"Oh?" Hermione suppressed an eye roll.

"Yeah," Zabini said. "I was thinking a Butterbeer fountain coming out of the punch bowl."

"Fine, but we should etch a Rune in it. One to counter spiking would be good."

"Boring," Malfoy said, thoughtlessly dismissing her idea. "How about one to automatically refill everyone's glass when it's empty?"

"They can just cast _Repelo_ themselves," Hermione said.

"Most won't have their wands," Malfoy countered. "Besides, it's more theatrical this way and we can showcase our skill."

"Oh, I like that idea." Clearwater and the others nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Hermione relented. "We can use the _Gebo_ Rune—the gift of replenishing."

"The _Fehu_ Rune," Malfoy disagreed. "For wealth and overflowing."

"Fine," she seethed.

"I think that does it, you're all dismissed," Malfoy said, imperiously. Everyone got up, gathering their things as they prepared to leave.

 _How dare he_ — _dismissing everyone at the meeting I'm facilitating_?

"Malfoy," she hissed. "A word."

He turned around, "What is it, Granger?"

"Must you insist on making me look like a fool in front of the prefects _every time_?"

"What do you expect?" Malfoy said, shrugging carelessly. "You make my skin crawl. You can't even be bothered to pull yourself together for one bloody prefect meeting." He pointedly looked her up and down.

" _I_ can't pull myself together?" she scoffed. "Look at you. You've been on edge the entire year. Your grades are slipping, and you look like you're battling night terrors. I hardly think you should have reason to worry about me."

In three long steps, he was in her face. "Look here, _filthy Mudblood_ , how dare you even speak to me that way? It's a wonder they allow you to share the school with us." He was in her face now, and Hermione marveled at the way he towered over her. "It's ridiculous really—they need to purge the lot of you."

"I know," she pressed on recklessly, "I'm a Mudblood bitch, not suitable to polish your shoes. Isn't that right?"

He nodded. "Your magic is inferior, akin to that of hags."

"Right," Hermione sighed, stepping away from him. _Merlin, but his proximity is so bloody…off putting._ "Only, here's the thing. _I'm here_ and my magic is hardly on the same caliber of hags."

"Only because you stole it!" Malfoy spat.

"Maybe so," she replied tersely. "But the fact is—it's mine. I'm here, and staying, and there's nothing you can do about it. So I suggest you keep your distance, and when we do have to work together—do so civilly."

He looked borderline unhinged. His breathing was haggard, and he was still far too close for her liking. As dangerous as he was, being this near to him was doing funny things to her heart, which beat loudly in her chest.

Finally, seeming to grab a handle on the situation, Malfoy said through gritted teeth, "For now, Granger."

"For now," she agreed. With that, Malfoy spun on his heel and walked long strides towards the exit. "Malfoy," she called. His step slowed right before the door. "Don't forget to get the Oak Matured Mead from Professor Slughorn. The professors will want it at their table."

He reached for the door and left without saying a word.

 _He better bloody remember,_ she thought darkly.

 **000**

Malfoy took a deep inhalation as the magic from the girl in front of him rushed to envelop him, igniting his senses and awakening his body.

 _Invigorating_

 _Incredible_

A magical high he'd only ever felt when casting an unforgivable.

It was… _just short of nirvana._

Truly, it would have been perfect had it been like it was with Pansy. But Daphne's magical ability was clearly of the weaker version and not as matched to his own.

 _Whatever_

For this purpose—he needed a dafter, gentler creature…and Daphne fit the bill perfectly.

"Mm, Draco," she moaned. "So good." She teetered by his side where she sat perched on the stairs, feeling the effects of the magic they had shared. His vision was blurred, and he felt slightly invincible.

"Of course it is, pet," he drawled. "You got the better end of the deal, didn't you?" She pouted prettily. "No matter, I know a way you can make it up to me."

She reached for him, giggling as she trailed her fingers down his chest. He gripped her wrist to halt her. "No, not that," he said, then turned to face her seriously through the haze of the magical high. "Did you get it?"

"I did duel her, didn't I?"

"Good girl."

"Draco, I don't see why…well, um, do you really want me to do this? I mean, why not Pans?"

"Pans isn't like you," he said easily. "Not as open-minded." Then he faced her, turning up the charm a few levels. "And she's not as good at keeping secrets as _you_. I know you can help me, won't you?"

Daphne nodded shyly.

"Good," he praised. "Now remember—the day of the dance, and I _don't_ want you to break character no matter what."

"I'd be happy to Draco, _whatever_ you need."

"That's why you're my favorite, Daph. Now, how about another go before we get back to the common room?"

"Alright," she said, gripping it. Focusing, Draco reached for his magic, exerting the control he'd become famous for as he harnessed some of the power and thrust it towards Daphne. She gasped at the force of it, letting out another exhilarating sigh before shoving the growing juggernaut back at him. He felt alive as the power rushed through him, alive and… _free_.

"What the _bloody hell_ is going on here?"

Smiling, Draco opened his eyes and turned to face Granger standing in the corridor. Daphne scrambled quickly away from him. For the first time, he neglected to erect his mask of impassiveness, letting her see clearly what was in his eyes.

She took a step back.

"Granger," he greeted. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I thought, er, I'm not sure but I saw… _magic_. You were exchanging magic. I've never heard of that," she rambled.

"You wouldn't, would you? It's a Pureblood thing, something you can't understand."

Hermione looked peeved, like she'd come upon a problem she was just itching to solve. A muscle clenched distractedly by her eye, showcasing a dimple on her right cheek he so rarely got to see.

 _I never make her smile._

But _he_ was smiling. _She wants to try it,_ he realized, _and I bet it'd be glorious...with her._

"You're a prefect for Godric's-sake," she chided. "And this is _your_ patrol. I may not be able to take points from you, but I can from Greengrass if you're going to negate on your duties, Malfoy."

Feeling the rush of magical endorphins, he forced out the words he needed to say, the right words. "Why don't you just get the fuck out and leave, Mudblood? We don't want to be tainted by your filth."

He'd meant it cruelly, the words were harsh, but he wasn't sure it had the right effect with his deranged smile. Hermione gulped before whirling away and fleeing down the corridor.

He smiled smugly, feeling oddly satisfied. Things were going his way. When he turned to Daphne, he felt guilt claw up his mind at the knowing look she fixed him with.

 **000**

Hermione was pleased to see the progress made in the Great Hall. It was nearly as unrecognizable as it had been the night of the Yule Ball. The giant pillars lining the hall were replaced with tall trees that's leaves were charmed a deep rose color. Twinkling lights in the form of fairies flitted from branch to branch along with the sound of their lilting laughter. The enchanted ceiling was masked by a thick layer of clouds.

The long rows of tables had been vanished to make way for the dance floor. Smaller tables were clustered around the sides with gaudy heart themed centerpieces and hovering flitterbies. The rectangular refreshment tables held all the treats they'd talked about as well as various drinks.

In the center of it all was Blaise's Butterbeer fountain. Hermione had to begrudgingly admit how impressed she was with the magical spectacle. She admired the Runes etched into the crystal encasement. It was clear the Slytherin was quite adept at Runecasting. She was immensely pleased Malfoy had managed to book Celestina Warbeck for the evening's entertainment.

Sighing in relief that the disagreeing group of prefects had managed to produce suitable decorations, Hermione headed back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Upon reaching the dorms, she noticed Parvati and Ginny readying themselves—just where she'd left them thirty minutes prior.

"Need any help, 'Mione?" Ginny offered. "I can do your hair if you like."

"That's alright, Gin," she said. "I've got it sorted, but thanks."

She reached into her armoire and selected the sleeveless white gown she had picked up in Muggle London. The silk gleamed with an almost silver sheen to it. It fit her like a glove and flared out at the hips. She pulled out the strappy silver heels she'd selected for the evening from her chest and began dressing.

Her normally covered arms and neck felt chilled as she was not used to showing so much skin. She glanced over to see Ginny checking out her own form, clad in skintight red silk that went just to her mid-thigh and thought her own dress quite modest in comparison. It was strapless, but the bust covered her cleavage, only revealing the milky skin of her neck and shoulders. She adored the skirt and the way it puffed at the waist to swish flirtatiously around her knees.

She walked over to the mirror and pulled out the Beautifying Charms book she'd bought from _Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions_ over Christmas break. There was an anti-frizz spell she thought would work perfectly for her hair. She decided to wear it down, pinning half of it away from her face. This method was far quicker than the all the jars of Sleekeazys she went through during Fourth Year. She opted for the Muggle way when she put on her makeup; only outlining her cheekbones with a light blush and frosty shadow over her eye.

"Parv, Gin, don't tell me you're _still_ not ready?"

"Almost done," replied Parvati. "Just another moment."

It was fifteen before they were finally ready to leave the Tower and make their way to the Sweetheart Ball. Hermione wondered if the extra time she took in getting ready would catch Ron's eye, who was always so wrapped up with Brown.

"Oh, 'Mione," Gin said, admiring the transformed room. "You guys really outdid yourselves."

"And to think," Parvati said, nodding in agreement. "You did all this with those incorrigible Slytherins. They must be a nightmare to work with."

"I don't know about that," Ginny said. "Blaise is pretty cute. I think I may ask him to dance. I mean, look at the figure he cuts in those dress robes."

Hermione looked to where she was gesturing and felt her breath catch when she saw a certain Slytherin who _certainly_ cut a fine figure in _his_ dress robes.

Draco Malfoy looked the epitome of a debonair Pureblood. He wore a black dress suit under his expensive wizard robes. His ever-present sneer graced his face, but for a brief moment, his eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of her. The mask quickly slipped back into place and Hermione had to wonder if she was just seeing things.

 _The prat! He has no right to come here looking like that._

"Oh, will you quit drooling," Ginny chided, pulling her to the dance floor. "Come on, it's time to let loose. Merlin knows _you_ need it."

"I wasn't _drooling_ ," Hermione said defensively. "I was merely making a mental note on whether I need to do any last minute alterations."

"That _won't_ be happening tonight. You've worked hard, now we play!"

"Hold on," she said. "Let me get us some drinks." She headed to the refreshments table, wishing she had her wand to simply hover the drinks back to the group of girls but there had been no place for it in her dress.

"Perfect timing," a voice said, startling her. Hermione looked up to see Draco and his date Pansy sneering down at her.

She had to work hard not to be caught up in that silver gaze of his, but there was so much intensity in his gray eyes. _Handsome, well of course he's handsome-Malfoys have always been_ that _. It's the inner beauty that's lacking._

"Malfoy," she greeted coolly. "What do you need?" She was still slightly annoyed at finding him and Greengrass seated comfortably next to each other the week prior, she still couldn't figure out what they'd been up to, despite the many books she poured through.

"Fetch us a glass, Mudblood," ordered Pansy. "That's the only thing you're kind are good for—serving."

She was unsure why her eyes sought out his again, but she was curious to see if he was going to let that slide. Of course he was, this was Malfoy— _he got off_ on this sort of thing.

"Fetch your own, Parkinson," she said evenly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Not so fast," Malfoy said, halting her. She looked up at him searchingly. "I just bet you think you're _hot shit_ , dressed like _that_ , carrying yourself like a _bloody princess_. But you're _not_. You're filth—so knee deep in mud, it's disgusting." Though he was speaking horrible, wretched things, she couldn't help feeling like it was a pretense, a thinly veiled mask hiding something he did not want her to see. He was trying to be so carefully aloof, but she could sense it was a facade given the tense way he held himself.

"Yes, well, you've made your point. No need to press the issue."

He let her pass this time, and she stumbled, slightly shaken, back to Ginny and Parvati, three drinks in tow.

Passing around the crystal glasses of Butterbeer, she grew irritated when she detected the Firewhiskey it was spiked with. _That blasted Zabini and Malfoy. I'll just bet they did the deed themselves, too!_

Despite her misgivings, the night went on splendidly. She was surprised how much fun it actually was just to dance with the girls.

When the Celestina Warbeck began singing a slower tune, Hermione had no choice but to step to the sidelines. She found her gaze wandering and had to stop herself from seeking out the pompous Slytherin she so loathed— _definitely loathed_.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor Dumbledore," she greeted. "I do hope the dance meets your liking."

"Lovely job," he acknowledged. "But I had wondered, the Oak Matured Mead, it isn't at the Professor's table?"

"Oh, it isn't?"

"Sadly no."

 _Damn that Malfoy, he had one task, an easy one. Merlin, but I hate him so much!_ Her eyes wandered over the crowd, wanting to seek him out and hold him accountable to finish the job, but he was nowhere to be found.

"My apologies, Professor. An oversight. I'll fetch a house elf to get it." She hated to bother them, but thought if she asked nicely it wouldn't be such a demand.

"Unfortunately, that won't work. Horace has his office heavily warded, and even house elfs cannot Apparate. A password is needed."

"Alright," she said, suppressing her annoyance. "I'll go then. What's the password?"

" _Billywig_. Are you sure you don't mind, Miss Granger?"

"Of course not. I'll be back shortly."

She turned around and headed towards the exit of the Great Hall. _Leave it to Malfoy to add to my workload!_

She got a feeling of unease when she arrived in the dungeons. With the floor vacated, it gave it a decidedly eerie feeling.

The sconces on the wall cast oddly distorted shadows, and she found herself walking hurriedly to Professor Slughorn's office. Every time she passed dim alcoves, she had the feeling someone was going to reach out and grab her. It was oddly disconcerting and a far cry from the courageous Gryffindor's usual countenance.

The office was in sight, almost within reach when an arm shot out and grabbed her, pulling her roughly into the shadows. Hermione yelped in surprise, but a hand clasped over her mouth.

Annoyance ruling over terror, she spun around to face her would-be-assaulter, and he broke his strong grip to let her do so.

"Malfoy," she sneered. "So this is where—."

Hermione could not finish her sentence as his lips came crashing down on hers _hard_. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and slammed her back into the stone wall. At first, she was frozen in shock, but quickly came to terms with the situation and struggled against him. Her threats were muffled on her tongue as Malfoy was relentless in his kiss. Her movements only incited him to tighten his grip.

Raising her arms with all the strength she could muster, she broke free and deliberately pushed him in the chest. He stumbled away from her, a look of surprise etched on his face.

"Have you gone mad?" she raged. "Did you, somehow, vacate your senses and forget who I am? Have you been Obliviated?"

Malfoy's dark chuckle sent chills down her spine. "Oh you're good, very good, Daph. Please, whatever you do, keep it up." He was reaching for her again, and Hermione thought she may be losing it.

"Wait," she ordered. She picked up her hands and looked at them under moving shadows the light from the sconces caused. They were her hands, weren't they? She glanced down at her feet and the toes of her silver heels. She was _her_ , so why did Malfoy think she was someone else? She looked up at him questioningly, at a loss for his odd behavior. She saw her reflection dance in his eyes and grew entranced. His proximity was oddly drugging and she was taken aback by how beautiful he looked when he wasn't sneering at her. "Why in _Merlin's name_ would you think I'm Daphne?"

"Because," he started, stepping stealthily forward. "I can't believe you actually got the same dress and everything. Fuck, you even smell like her." His eyes fixed on her lips, and she licked them instinctively. "Taste like her even, though I haven't, I didn't quite get to…"

This time, his lips made a slow dissent, and Hermione watched it happen in a detached sort of way. He pressed his lips firmly, flicking out his tongue to taste her before nibbling on her bottom lip. He kissed her wildly, punishing—not like anything she'd experienced before. He alternated between suckling her tongue and biting her lip, hard and hungry.

He was _frantic._

 _Desperate_

Hermione was spellbound.

She had yet to even participate and already this was going down as the greatest kiss in her life. In a fit of madness, she decided she shouldn't be a footnote in her own best kiss and let Malfoy dominate, so she engaged.

Her hands wound around his neck as she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer.

He groaned.

Following his lead, she twined her tongue with his, not even noticing the way he stepped forward to close the gap between them. Wildly, his arms twisted around her pulling her soft curves flesh up against his hot ridges. She let out an involuntary whimper and squeezed her thighs together, squirming for something she didn't know.

He didn't let her. He stepped in between her legs and Hermione became alarmed at the delicious friction she felt where heat pooled low in her abdomen. He sensed her fear and broke the kiss to drag his tongue along her jaw and up to the shell of her ear.

"You're being a tease today," he whispered, his voice course and lost. "Playing ever the prude." _Prude_ , she thought vaguely, _I'm snogging the man senseless, that's hardly_ —She gasped when he nipped a particularly sensitive tendon on her neck. He was making her feverish, she could feel herself dissolving. She'd thought she could be in control but felt her conscious mind fizzling away. "Quit being a tease, already." He snapped his hips forward and she felt what could only be his arousal.

"I'm a Mudblood," she said, finding her voice and ignoring the way it cracked. "You told me so countless times."

"I know."

"Well, then, why are you doing this?"

"Because I want you in spite of it."

"I _n spite_ ," she repeated. "Malfoy, there should be no _in spite_ , that's the bloody problem with you—you insufferable prat!"

She broke away, successfully this time.

"Look Greengrass, I know what I said, but this is getting ridiculous. Give in already."

"Why the bloody hell do you think I'm _her_?" And then it hit her—could it be that he thought she was a Polyjuiced version of herself? But why would Greengrass pose as her?

Annoyed, Malfoy ran his hand through his hair—hair she had successfully tousled in a decidedly attractive way. "Look," he started. "You obviously need to relax. I know we don't have our wands, but we can still do _it_. Come on, let's go back to the common room."

"I'm not doing anything with—wait, you mean the magical exchange thing?" Hermione's curiosity was peaked, and she could not help but want to see what it was all about as she let him pull her away.

He said nothing as he continued to drag her to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Absently, she realized she'd never been there before and noted where it was between the stone wall. "Pureblood," he muttered, and the stones drifted apart to reveal a passage. He led her through quickly to a green divan in the corner.

Turning to face her, he smirked. "Yes, the _magical-exchange-thing_. Now, have a seat." To his irritation, she actually contemplated it first before finally giving in. She couldn't pass up the opportunity to see a rare bit of magic. "Turn and face me. It will be different this time, it's harder to call upon your magic with no wand."

 _No it isn't,_ Hermione scoffed inwardly. She'd called upon her magic countless times, especially when she was feeling stressed and needed the calming relief of it. She complied with Malfoy's demand, taking a sit cross-legged in front of him.

"Can you reach for your magic? Can you feel it?"

"Of course," she snapped. She called forth her magic easily, and let it crackle around her proudly. He did the same. "Now what?"

"Now, you're going to take as much of it as you can, and thrust it back towards me."

She eyed him skeptically, but curiosity got the better of her, and she complied. It was harder to do than she'd thought it would be, her magic did not want to leave the comfort of her presence. Sensing her struggle, Malfoy scooted closer. Finally, the magic yielded to her command, and as if a spring had broken, the force of it rushed towards him.

With a groan, he flinched away before reaching for her hands and holding on to her fiercely. She could sense their combined magic, it was like it had a life of it's own. She had the growing desire to reach out and touch it. Hermione felt as if suspended in air, and she was oddly entranced by the way he had closed his eyes in apparent bliss. He opened them, and she marveled at the way they looked like hard metal. Her breath hitched, and it was then, that he thrust the powerful force back at her.

She felt as if she'd been hit with an electric jolt and was vaguely aware of her head hitting the soft cushions though it felt as if she were floating. The force of it thrummed around her, alive and wonderful, and Hermione found herself gripping onto Malfoy's shoulders for dear life as he'd somehow landed on top of her.

Through the direct conduit, she could swear she felt his feelings. In between the darkness, there was so much... _tenderness_. She felt invincible. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the divan and wandlessly cast a space increasing charm. Sure enough, the divan widened itself, accommodating both of them and proving her theory correct.

Combining magic was _powerful_.

Her legs twisted around his waist, securing him to her as she turned her head to give him better access. The feeling of his lips along the column of her neck, his hands digging into her hips, it was sublime, and she could feel herself edging towards delirium. His fingers were ghosting up her legs, digging into her thighs, and in a moment of clarity, her eyes widened in alarm. She surged forward, sending him flying into the opposite end of the couch.

Draco felt reckless with elation and oddly giddy as he reveled in the powerful force of their combined magic. How had it not been like this before? Did the Polyjuice have something to do with it? It felt loads more intense than it had with Pansy, and he could only guess at why. He could think of nothing but his raw, aching need to be inside her. He wrenched her thighs apart. He could no longer play this game, it was time he gave in. He'd deprived himself for too long and to finally have the object of his desires—even if it was _wrong_ , even if she was _filthy_ , even is she was just a copy—though she didn't feel like a copy, he couldn't wait another moment.

He was shocked when the girl in question sent a forceful blast of energy at him, stunning him, and throwing him off her in the process.

"Knock it off, Malfoy," the Granger look-alike ordered in a very Granger like tone. "It's been fun, and the magical exchange was, er...educating. But it's time I get back to the dance. This has gone far enough."

"Daphne—."

"Not _Daphne_. I'm Hermione, that's Granger to you. Unless you're prepared to answer my questions, I'll see you around." The witch stumbled to her feet, swaying precariously.

Draco smirked, _he wasn't letting her go anywhere._ With seeker-like reflexes, his arm shot out to grab her, ensnaring her back against him. His lips fell back to the crook of her neck where his tongue flicked out to taste her. "Alright, Granger," he muttered against her skin. "I'll play along. What are your questions?"

Her breathing had sped up considerably. His mind was still buzzing, but through the haze there was lucidity. The magical exchange was too powerful for her not to feel the same, and even though it had lessoned, he still felt drugged by her proximity.

"It's not rational," she shook her head. "It doesn't make sense why you want this. You think my blood's a mistake."

"It doesn't have to be _rational_." He pulled her down beside him, and just for a moment, became trapped in her molten caramel gaze. Eyes alight with fire, intelligent and aware, _so very Granger._ He needed that, he needed _her_. She was everything and suddenly he forgot about Daphne and Polyjuice. This was _his_ Granger, and he needed to get through to her. "We argue—it's what we _do_. But now, you can stop pretending."

"Pretending what?"

"Pretending you don't feel it too. That you don't want me just as much as I want you."

"You're _wrong._ Delusional, I _don't_ want you." But even as she fought him, he could see the telltale blush, the rising and falling of her chest, her dilated pupils...she wanted _this_. She wanted _him_. He just needed to tempt her, persuade her, whisper whatever she needed to hear.

He pushed her back on a pillow and sidled next to her. His hand ghosted over the white silk covering her stomach, sliding up further, tantalizingly close to her heaving chest. "I think about it all the time," he whispered into her ear. "During the prefect meetings, when you're leaned back on the desk, I try to imagine what you look like under that perfectly white blouse of yours. I wish I could peel off your jumper, pop open those ridiculous buttons, I want to see you—it consumes me." Her eyelids fluttered and emboldened, Draco pressed on. "I want to know the color of your bra, your knickers, it drives me wild. I even wonder right now."

"I'm not wearing one."

The hand rubbing her abdomen edged up towards the bodice of her gown, and he glanced down in fascination at the discovery of her hardened nipples poking through the fabric. His cock twitched. "I want to pull your dress down, I want to put my mouth and hands and taste them. Will you let me?"

Her breath hitched but he could tell she was still struggling against him. _Always resisting._

"Come on, Granger," he breathed. "We're alone in an empty common room. _Just let me_. You want it too. _Admit it_."

This time, she could not suppress the breathless moan that escaped. He threaded his fingers through her hair, that wild mane he adored even though she'd managed to tame it somewhat. Impatiently, he pulled the bodice of her gown down and _...fuck_.

 _Beautiful_

Her breasts were begging to be touched, and he reached for them, squeezing and flicking before pressing his mouth down eagerly. The noises she was making were delicious, he wanted to swallow them up. He kissed her, hot and demanding. She complied with equal fervor, and he marveled at the way it felt so freeing—he would _finally_ have her.

His hands left her breasts and dragged along her dress, bunching up the fabric as he wrenched her thighs apart, simultaneously pressing his throbbing arousal against her. He let out a desperate growl as he felt her wet knickers. He had to get their clothes off, he was _right there_ , just where he needed to be, and he could hardly wait another second. But first…

"I have to," he mumbled. "Let me. _Ineedtotasteyou_."

She made incoherent noises as his fingers ghosted over the drenched fabric, to the hem, and then…" _Fuck, Granger_." So wet, so ready for him. He slipped a finger between her slick folds, and then she was bucking, writhing, arching off the cushions. He flicked her clit, and the sound she made was desperate and unhinged.

No longer in control, his other hand flew to his trousers. He unzipped himself freeing his swollen cock, already weeping with the urge to be inside her. He squeezed it and screwed his eyes shut at the indescribable feeling of relief. Had he ever been this hard? He didn't think so.

When he withdrew his fingers, Hermione thought she may scream in agony. She'd been so close! If only he'd continue that delicious motion, that wonderful flick of his wrists. Her eyes flew open, a reprimand on the tip of her tongue when she saw him quickly drop to his knees, hitch his hands around them and pull her to the edge of the enlarged sofa.

He dragged his gaze up. His beautiful gray eyes pierced her with a dark intensity. Her legs tried to close but he held them steadfast. "You don't know what you do to me," he said huskily.

Then he was dipping his head, low, and lower still. She tried to close her legs, an embarrassed blush taking over her face but he did not relent his grip. And then, his mouth pressed into her, tongue melting, so hot and...Hermione thought she may have screamed as she fell back against the pillows. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt herself dissolving once more.

Abruptly, that decadent sensation was gone, and her eyes flew open in confusion, rife with anger and _need_.

"You'll look at me," he demanded roughly. "You'll watch what I do to you. You'll never forget that it was _me_ that made you feel this way."

She dragged herself up on her elbows as she looked down at him, content when he lowered his head to her once more. " _Malfoypleasedon'tstop_ ," she begged, her mind unable to form coherent words.

His tongue moved in delicious patterns, working her hot flesh. Her leg hooked around his shoulder and she was _not_ pushing him away this time. Rather, her fingers gripped his hair, shamelessly pressing into his mouth, begging.

"Fuck," he muttered. "So good. I knew you would taste _so good_."

She felt herself approaching a precipice, heading towards indescribable bliss. But he was playing her, teasing her, he kept her cruelly and purposefully on the edge when all she wanted to do was throw herself over the mysterious ledge. She coaxed him, threatened him, then begged him to _please_...please what she wasn't sure. He only laughed darkly, and the sound was sinful, delicious. She wanted him and she told him so.

He growled, and then dropped the hand holding her leg around his shoulder to slip a finger into her. She was sure her eyes must have rolled back into her head.

"You want to come, love?"

" _YespleaseMalfoy_ ," she moaned, thrashing as if under the Cruciatus.

He curled his fingers just so and then…

The room seemed to shift in front of her. She screamed his name as hot white light consumed her head and her vision shrank to nothing but Malfoy moving between her legs. He raised his head and through her bliss, she was struck by the ravenous need that graced his handsome face. _So honest_. _So beautiful_. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to assuage that need.

His fingers pulled out even though she was still spinning...still careening...still _free falling_.

"I can't, I'm sorry, Granger. But I _have to,_ I _need to_ be inside you."

He was shifting her, placing her legs longways on the couch as he climbed in between, positioning himself. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of _him_ , at the thought of _that_ in _her_. But her muscles were still clenching and unclenching and she realized absently, that she needed this as much as him.

The tip of him brushed against her dripping folds and the sensation was so electrifying it was almost painful. She needed _more_.

His face was strained as he inched further inside of her. Her violent shudders only making him hold himself tenser still as she sucked him in.

"Like a bloody furnace. I can't, I have to, _fuckingneedyou_."

He pressed forward slightly and Hermione winced in a mix between pain and pleasure, her orgasm never quite ebbing. His eyes flew open, and he froze.

He was almost there, _finally fucking there_ , when he felt it. A barrier, a barrier that had no place being in Daphne Greengrass. Yet, it was. Heat flooded his already flushed face at the realization...the ramifications...the _consequences_.

"Granger?" he asked blearily, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"Well, who else would it be?"

"You...you were in the dungeons?"

"Only because _someone_ forgot the mead."

"Oh fuck," he lamented. "How am I supposed to, I can't, fuck." Screwing his eyes shut in concentration, he began pulling himself out of her inch by inch.

 _Gryffindor Princess._

 _Prefect_

 _Goodie-two-shoes Granger._

 _And I'm doing this with her, so fucking bad!_

He wanted to sob as he withdrew from her velvety, tight sheath. _How could this happen?_

"And what do you think you're doing?" Using her legs, she flipped them both over, Draco too stunned to resist. His tip still torturously inside her.

"Please, I can't think, my head, I want to bury myself in you so badly. I'm trying to—."

She leaned her head down to kiss him, tasting herself, and he could hardly respond, stunned even more so. When she broke the kiss, she smiled. "It's okay, Draco," his eyes widened. "It's like you said; we can stop pretending now."

Then, she sat fully on him, impaling herself to the hilt. Her eyes closed in a mixture of pain and bliss, but soon, the bliss overcame the pain. He thought he'd never seen something so beautiful. The feel of her, clenching him so impossibly tight, squeezing him, caressing him like a velvet glove. His senses were quickly abandoning him as he was overcome with the sensation to _move_.

He gripped her hips and lifted her slightly before slamming her back down as he thrusted up. He groaned at the wonderful sensation, pure joy taking over his face.

"Yes, like that _Draco._ "

"Anything you wish, _love_."

They moved together in earnest. He could feel the heat building in his balls, threatening to explode and seeking release so finally. She rocked against him, and he thrust into her.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured against her chest. "Your blood—it doesn't matter. You're beautiful...perfect... _intelligent_." She was whimpering and Draco continued on recklessly. "I think I may love you." He gripped her hips as his movements became erratic. "Say, you'll be mine, _fuck...promise me_."

" _Please_ ," she cried. "I'll be yours. _Justdon'tstop_." He rocked his hips just so, positioning himself to pound her clit. When he felt her pleasure hit her, he couldn't hold back, the feeling of her orgasm tightening around his cock was too phenomenal to resist. "Hermione," he breathed. He moaned when he exploded into her, the intensity of his release causing his vision to blur.

"Draco."

Still shuddering from the aftereffects of their lovemaking, he held her securely against him, tenderly, _lovingly_.

 **000**

"'Mione looked pretty good tonight, didn't she?" asked Ron. "Though I don't know where she went off to."

"Who do you think I'm looking at," said Harry, gesturing to the Professor's table.

"It's just 'Mione and the Ferret, handing something to the Dumbledore."

"Yeah, but look."

Ron scrunched his eyes and then turned red at the odd sight before him.

Hermione and Malfoy were holding hands.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	4. Out of the Flames (Number 4)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Out of the Flames (Number 4)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: T  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Pairing: Draco/Hermione  
Trigger Warnings: Mild Violence, Language**

* * *

 **Out of the Flames**

* * *

Draco sat on the hard, wooden bench. It was painted green, and was not forgiving in comfort. Watching Scorpius play with a little girl, he wondered what it would be to live a 'normal' life. His son was growing; he'd be turning five in a few months. Scorpius would grow up not knowing what he was missing; if he'd grown up like Draco, he would soon begin lessons with a tutor on foreign languages and magical history. Instead, Scorpius would understand that his magic must be kept secret, must not be shown. To do magic in the Muggle World was not only illegal, but could potentially bring unwanted attention.

He looked at his watch - five o'clock - it was time to get back to the tent. He walked towards the blonde boy in the sandbox. The little girl next to his son was watching him approach, bright eyes wide. She looked like she could see through him, to who and what he was. It was almost unnerving to have this red-headed girl be so observant.

"Scor, it's time to go, man," Draco said.

"NO! Not yet, I'm playing with Rose," Scorpius whined.

Draco looked over at the little girl. He noticed her red hair was frizzy, reminding him of someone, but not being able to place whom. She ignored him and continued to shovel sand into her bucket.

"Scor, it's time to go."

Draco's patience was thin. He wasn't in the mood to calm a tantrum before it even started. Scorpius was good at pushing to get what he wanted, and this was one of those times. Draco watched the boy meet his eyes while grabbing a handful of sand, and turned to the girl saying, "Look, Rose. Watch me."

He moved his fist upside down and slowly unfolded his fingers. The sand started to swirl, and spun faster into a small tornado no larger than the girl's bucket. Rose gaped at the tiny tornado, pure awe in her shining, butterscotch eyes.

Footsteps hurriedly approached them.

"ROSE! Honey, it's time for us to go home!" a woman shrieked as the sand tornado fell into Rose's bucket.

 _Shit_ , thought Draco. Damage control of the crazy, helicopter mom. She must've seen the tornado. What would she think? _Damn, and we finally found a park that worked for us_.

Draco couldn't see her face as she leaned forward towards her daughter. Somehow, this was different; this woman was used to magic. She wasn't surprised of the tornado, but wary of the caster. He knew that hair though. He knew those flustered curls, and frizzy ends. Suddenly, he was able to place his previous feeling of the little girl reminding him of someone.

"Granger?" he asked.

Draco was breathless. He was excited to know that someone he could relate to was within reaching distance. To know that someone _he knew_ was still alive. Excitement gave way to fear, as he realized he couldn't trust Hermione Granger. That feeling of hope only lasted for a second, before it was stripped from him like ugly wallpaper from a decrepit home. Draco fisted his wand, still hidden in his pocket, till his knuckles grew white. He would do anything, ANYTHING, to protect his son.

With an air of authority he said, "Scorpius, it's time for us to go, now!"

Still staring at the back of Hermione's head, Draco didn't see Scorpius looking at his dad with tears building in his eyes. The hurt that he'd caused by being stern with him went unnoticed.

Hermione looked up from her crouched position, and realized the pale blonde boy's dad was Draco Malfoy. As a boy he called her _Mudblood_. This boy taunted her, and held the opinion that her blood was less. This boy let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, tried to kill Albus Dumbledore, and stood by while his crazy-ass aunt tortured her.

Rose looked at her, pleading. "Mummy, I'm not ready to go."

"Rose, darling, it's time for us to be leaving. We need to get back," Hermione answered.

Rose looked back at Scorpius who had a horrible expression of pain still painted on his face. She rose to her feet and brushed her skirt of sand and grabbed her mother's hand.

Hermione stood staring at Draco's grey eyes, noticing the hardness behind them. Feelings raced through her mind and body of more than fierce determination, but anger, mingled with fear. _Why was Draco here? Where had he been for the past six years? Which side did he fight on?_ Her thoughts tilted towards the white-blonde headed boy that made a tornado from a handful of sand. She stared at the child that was playing kindly with her daughter. It warmed her heart to see Rose have someone her own age to connect with. She considered the moment she saw the tornado and knew it was magic; her heartbeat stuttered with excitement as she watched Rose's eyes glow bright. It scared her to realize that tiny bit of magic could be their saving grace, and simultaneously something she should run _far_ away from. On that thought, she wondered about her school nemesis who was standing in front of her, with a son of his own. She knew she should leave. It was time to shove the burning need for company away; she wasn't going to find that in _Draco Fucking Malfoy_.

"We should be going, love," she said looking down at Rose. "Tell your new friend bye."

Hermione and Rose began walking towards the edge of woods that bordered the park. Seeing her daughter look over her shoulder, back towards the playground, she chanced a glance too. She watched as Draco took his hand from his pocket and let the breath he'd been holding out.

"Mum, did you know they know magic like you do? I want to see Scorpius again. Will he teach me his magic?"

"Love, I don't think we'll be seeing them again any time soon. It's not safe to be around people that know magic. Besides, your magic will come soon."

Hermione looked to see if anyone was watching before disapparating them from the park when she noticed her palm was empty of what should be her daughter's dirt crusted fingers. She turned towards the park to see Rose's ginger hair streaking out behind her as she raced towards the sand box.

"Rose, stop!"

Draco didn't notice the darkened face across the park as he bent down to brush the sand off of his son. When he heard Hermione scream, he looked up to see a man striding quickly towards him, wand level with his heart.

"I know you're Draco Malfoy. You're supposed to be dead, you are!" The man grabbed Scorpius hard, pulling him away from Draco, his dirty nails digging into his cheek as he clamped the boy's mouth shut, preventing him from screaming.

Draco didn't say anything to the man, but was internally trying to figure how to get his son away from him without causing a scene that would bring more attention; even a wandless, nonverbal spell could be dangerous. Scorpius' eyes were wide with fear, and he was swinging his legs wildly trying to loosen his assailants hold. Suddenly, Scorpius was dropped to the ground as the captor was flung backwards, falling into the sandbox, and hitting his head on the wooden edge. Rose stood next to Draco with her hand held out in front of her. He looked down at her realizing _she_ had been the one to release the hold the man had on his son.

She glanced up at him with shocked eyes and whispered, "That man was very bad. I didn't like him hurting my friend."

Draco approached the now unconscious man, muttering a quick _incarcerous_ to bind him, before scooping his sobbing son into his arms. Hermione was grabbing Rose as the distinct crack of apparation hit their ears. _Shit, more people were coming!_ Not thinking twice about his decision, Draco gripped Hermione hard on the upper arm, meeting her scared eyes before disapparating them all away.

o0o0o

Scorpius slept against his father's chest, choked sobs still racking his tiny body. Draco adjusted his seat on the ground as he leaned against a tree, staring into the flames of their fire.

Hermione swayed back and forth with Rose cradled in a makeshift sling, reminiscing in the old-familiar feeling of the soft rhythm of her daughter's breath on her chest.

"When Rose was little, the only way she would go to sleep was to be wrapped in a sling."

Draco looked up at her, but stayed silent. She didn't understand why she wanted to tell him any of this, but he seemed to be lonely like her. When he grabbed her and disapparated, her first thought was fear, but after six years on the run, she learned how to deduce people's intentions quickly. Draco showed kindness to her and Rose in their quick escape, and his attentiveness to his son was reassuring of his maturity.

Needing to process the day's events with someone, she offered hesitantly, "Today was the first time Rose has shown her magic. I've been waiting for a while now. I figured it would happen when she was feeling a particularly strong emotion... but I never expected her to attack someone."

"Granger, she saved my son. I'm pretty sure her _attacking_ someone was technically _protecting_ someone. If she hadn't thrown that snatcher off of him..." he trailed off, eyes watching as Hermione swayed. He liked watching her hold her daughter, and comfort her; it was something he sorely missed for Scorpius who no longer had a mother to soothe him.

She smiled sadly, meeting Draco's eyes. "What happened today?"

Sighing deeply, he asked, "Do you want to lay her down? I think he's out, and there is plenty of space in the tent for them."

"Yes, my shoulder is killing me. This used to be easier when she was a baby."

The tent inside was comfortable, furnished with dark wooden shelves, an oversized sofa, and ornamental rugs. It was surprisingly well kept for a bachelor on the run. She laid Rose down on the sofa and covered her with a blanket that was slung over the back.

Draco walked back from laying Scorpius down in the huge bed in the corner. "Firewhiskey?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

Handing her a glass of amber liquid, he started towards the tent flap, walking back out to the fire, and resuming his seat against the tree.

When she sat down across the fire, he began, "Those were snatchers that were trying to catch me."

Smirking, Hermione quipped back, "Yeah, I kind of guessed that. Brightest witch of my age and all."

Draco smiled for the first time in a while. "Ok, Granger, let's start at square one. What happened to your side after the Final Battle?"

"Are you trying to avoid my question about today?"

"No, but if you want to understand, then we will need to start at the beginning. What happened to you six years ago when The Boy Who Lived _died_?"

She drained her glass of liquor, feeling the warm contents travel down to her belly, and gazed thoughtfully into the fire. Six years ago, she wouldn't have imagined Harry not being alive. Six years ago, she wouldn't have sat across from Draco Malfoy. Four years ago, she would have felt rage at the mention of the Final Battle. Now, she had seen too much, been through too much, felt too much.

Hermione finally spoke. "Well, you were there; you saw Harry as his curse connected with Voldemort's. We thought Harry's curse would out power his, but then it didn't. At the time I didn't know Voldemort died too… all I saw was Harry." Her eyes never left the flames as they flashbacked to the day when the magical world fell apart.

"The Death Eaters outnumbered us; we were fucking kids for god's sake. How were we supposed to win? … Especially when Harry died… He wasn't supposed to die." Shaking herself out of the memory, she looked up to see Draco staring into the fire the same way she had, remembering that awful scene.

"Well, anyway, some of us got pushed towards Hogsmeade, and we barely made it out," she finished lamely.

Silence overtook them as the night darkened. Draco threw another log on the fire and refilled both glasses. "I ran after the duel."

Hermione swirled her drink around in her cup, eyes back on the flames, and waited for him to continue.

"Without _him_ leading those crazy fucks, they are all just murderers, rapists, and sociopaths. I knew we had to leave. We couldn't be a part of it."

"Who's we?" she asked quietly, knowing that Draco was alone now.

"Well, at first, it was Blaise and Theo. We saved Pansy and Astoria, but we couldn't find anyone else. I know my parents got out, but I don't know for how long. I've been on the run ever since."

Hermione emptied her second glass and rubbed her bare arms with her hands, hoping the friction along with the alcohol would help alleviate the bumps that ran up her arms. Draco noticed and asked, "Do you need a jumper?"

"No, I have one back at our place. Do you mind if we stay here for the night? We can leave first thing in the morning, but apparating a sleeping four year old is not something I want to do."

He was surprised she even asked. In fact, now the danger had passed, and the day's events were calm, he wondered how he even came about having Hermione Granger across from him. Didn't they both look at each other as the enemy? He knew she didn't trust him, and he sure as hell didn't trust her, but somehow after sharing the fear of having their children in danger, there was an understanding met.

"No, I don't mind," he answered simply.

Standing, Hermione began walking towards the tent. "Malfoy? I don't know why today happened, and I don't mean the snatcher part, but I am grateful for what you did getting Rose and I out of there. I can't thank you enough for keeping her safe."

He watched as she disappeared into the tent, not sure what she even meant. He didn't do anything. It was her little girl, her special little girl that saved his son. He should be thanking them.

o0o0o

"Watch me, Rose. I will show you how." Scorpius held his hand over the picture book they were looking at together as the page turned without his touch. "You try, now."

Hermione opened her eyes from her place on the couch. It was early in the morning still, and she could see the two children a little ways away from her lying on their bellies on the floor. She smiled, not getting to see Rose play often with children her own age, or even children period. Scorpius was a sweet child, and seemed to enjoy having someone around as much as Rose did. Rose's hand was held above the book, when suddenly the page lifted up and almost turned. She gasped, and Scorpius let out a loud chuckle of laughter that was filled with joy. Hermione couldn't help but laugh too.

"They seem to enjoy each other's company," Draco surprised her as he offered her a cup of coffee from behind the sofa.

Grateful for the caffeine, she didn't question his gesture, and took the mug. "Yes, they do, don't they?"

They both watched as Scorpius told Rose about the pig on the page, and why it was building a brick house.

"Muggle story book?" She raised a questioning brow to Draco.

"Times have changed, Granger," he answered.

Draco chose a spot on the floor near the couch, while he and Hermione sipped their coffee in companionable silence. She considered the previous day's events, replaying it over in her mind. She started to feel awkward about the vulnerability she displayed in last night's admissions. Swallowing the last of the brew, she stood abruptly.

"Rose, love, it's time for us to go. Can you…"

"Nooooo," Rose interrupted, eyes filling with tears.

"I know you're having a good time, but we can't intrude any longer on the Malfoy men's time."

"You don't have to leave," Draco said, the words tumbling out before thinking. It had been so long since he was able to be around someone. It was easy with Hermione for some reason, and he loved watching Scorpius have a playmate. Plus, there was something that he liked about the way she said, 'Malfoy Men'.

Scorpius stood up and began jumping up and down, cheering, "Yay, Rose can stay forever!"

Hermione smiled fondly at the two children as they danced around the room. She didn't know if she wanted to stay. She also didn't understand why Malfoy offered, but when she turned to ask him, he was staring at his son with a happiness only a father could have while knowing his child was happy. She looked back at Rose, and felt the same way.

The words surprised her, as she heard herself whisper, "Ok, we don't have to leave."

o0o0o

Draco wanted to remain on the move. He never liked staying anywhere longer than four days, and since this was how Hermione and Rose lived also, the decision for a new campsite was reached quickly.

It was a swift cleanup, and Hermione was about to pack up the tent when she heard Rose screech. She ran outside to find her daughter three metres from the ground, her wild hair a halo around her beaming face. Hermione gasped as she fell, and Draco caught her.

"Again! Again!" she squealed at Draco. Laughing, he lifted her, and threw her up in the air again.

"My turn, Daddy! My turn, now!"

Smiling to herself, she turned her attention back to the tent. She disassembled it easily and folded the canvas with a couple flicks of her wand, the whole thing fitting neatly in her magically extended bag. Before she lowered the wards, she watched the trio as Draco threw the two children into the air, one at a time, over and over again. How he was able to do it and not get tired was beyond her. Watching their faces light up each time made Hermione feel hope for the first time in a long time. Maybe it was not hopefulness for the kind of life she grew up having, knowing the world had changed so dramatically, but at least she could begin to envision a life where Rose could smile and laugh easily.

"Are you ready to go?" she urged, bringing the fun to a close. She didn't expect the smile she was met with as Draco to turned to her, nor the small flutter she felt in her stomach. It was flustering, even unnerving, but she hastily pushed the feeling aside, ignoring it with a practiced disinterest.

"Sure, let's go guys," Draco responded.

"I am not a guy," Rose corrected.

Chuckling, Draco agreed, "You're right, Rose. You are a lady, and ladies deserve to be treated so." He bent his leg, and held his hand out to Rose saying, "My Lady."

Hermione giggled at Draco's play, and was a little shocked when Rose curtsied and placed her tiny hand in his. "I didn't see that coming," she remarked, smiling at Rose. Turning to Scorpius, she implored, "Am I to assume you will allow me to guide you to our new campsite, Kind Sir?"

Scorpius clenched his fingers around hers, and they were off to their new home for the next four days.

o0o0o

For five weeks, they moved camps every three to four days, sometimes wandering parts of muggle towns, and sometimes staying hidden behind their wards. It was easier than being on their own as the kids had someone to play with. Hermione found herself enjoying the occasional peace to sit down and read, and luckily, Draco had quite a few books she hadn't read before. She appreciated the adult conversations, and was surprised to learn Draco was knowledgeable in most subjects. The foursome shared their meals together, chatting and laughing by the fire while they ate. Hermione and Draco took turns watching the kids while the other did chores, prepared meals, or made a run for supplies. They quickly fell into a rhythm that started to feel like a partnership. After nightfall, Hermione and Rose spent their time in their tent, while Draco and Scorpius stayed in theirs; respecting each other's privacy, and preserving their one-on-one family time.

Draco noticed an ease in being around Hermione. She was great with the kids, and he felt he could take a breath once in awhile without fear of what Scorpius would get into. She was constantly teaching them about something, subconsciously, he assumed. He found the trait endearing now, but as a kid he remembered it being irritating. He began to catch himself staring at her while she walked around the campsite with the kids on her heels, and when she looked back meeting his gaze, he held hers; something he hadn't done with anyone in nearly six years.

His eyes followed her over his shoulder, while he scrubbed the pans from breakfast, idly picking at the scorched egg. The sun was catching on her curls, turning the mousy brown to goldenrod for a few moments. It was mesmerizing, and he let his gaze linger there. He was taken aback at the thought of Hermione being beautiful, but she was, wasn't she? Not an obvious beauty, like so many pure-bred Slytherin girls, but she had a subtle, delicate allure. Lost in thought, he didn't notice her come up behind him. She reached around his side to grab a dish towel, and he felt the whisper of her breath on the nape of his neck. Frozen to the spot, he turned his head to chance a glance at her, their noses nearly touching, and cheeks grazing as she beamed a smile towards him. He let out a shaky breath that he'd been holding and locked his eyes on hers.

"Scorpius spilled orange juice all over his shirt," she explained with an eye roll, snatching up the towel, and skipping away towards the mess.

He called after her, "You know we have wands for that, don't you?"

She responded mockingly in an affected Draco-like accent, "Once a muggle, always a muggle."

He flicked dishwater in her direction, and turned back to the egg crusted pan, chuckling to himself. The smell of pears and jasmine lingered in the air, her shampoo he realized.

o0o0o

During dinner one evening, Scorpius asked, "Can we play games tonight?"

"Oh, can we Mum?" Rose chimed, eyes bright with hope.

Hermione looked at Draco, and when he smiled she replied, "I think that's a lovely idea, Scorpius."

"What do you want to play, 'Mione? My favorite is Snakes and Ladders, but we have Checkers, Pictionary, oh and Twister."

Smiling at the excitement in Scorpius' voice she answered, "I think Snakes and Ladders sounds fun."

Rose and Scorpius got a kick out of Draco landing on the snakes more than the ladders, and after three rounds of losses Draco retreated to make popcorn. Hermione helped the two kids make a huge bed of pillows and blankets on the floor where they sprawled out. Draco took up a spot on the edge of the sofa, while Hermione tucked herself into the corner opposite him. She began to read out loud to them. It wasn't long till the soft sounds of heavy breathing made it evident that Scorpius and Rose were fast asleep.

Nudging his foot against Hermione's knee, he interrupted her reading. "I guess this game night turned into a sleepover."

Looking up from her page, she verified his assessment. Scorpius was on his belly, one hand still in the popcorn bowl. Rose was curled up next to him, her long lashes lying gently on her cheeks. She smiled to herself. Sleeping Rose always made Hermione feel like falling asleep herself; it was a drug, and she wanted to soak it up.

"Do you want to start a fire outside?" Draco suggested.

"Sure, why not?"

Hermione transfigured a fallen log into a sofa and wrapped herself up with a blanket she had brought from the tent while Draco gathered the wood and set it alight with his wand. They sat in a comfortable stillness for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione couldn't quite place her emotions, but with Draco less than a half metre away from her on the sofa, she noticed she hadn't felt this comfortable with another person for a long time. The past few weeks she enjoyed the routine that they'd created. She was grateful for Draco's presence, and couldn't help but watch him with intent curiosity as he interacted with not just Scorpius, but Rose too. He never let them see that the world had turned into a scary place. He never told them stories of what happened in the war, or of his own childhood that was so obviously different than his son's. He was patient and kind with them, showing them how to set a trap, which plants were poisonous, and how to identify edible mushrooms. She noticed when he would walk away from camp, leaving the safety of the wards, how his shoulders tensed and his hand instinctively reached into his wand pocket - not out of fear but protection. There was a part of her that trusted Draco and his intentions; he had their best interests at heart, each of them… including herself.

It was a strange realization, but it was clear her sentiments towards him had started to change. She couldn't imagine a world in which Malfoy, her childhood adversary, was her accomplice on the run; and yet, that was the exact situation in which she found herself. Recently, he'd shown a softness - especially with Scorpius - she wouldn't have dreamed possible. _Yes, the world was definitely different_ … When she was being honest with herself, she enjoyed this new version of Draco; the caretaker, the father, the kindhearted friend. She thought recently she noticed him looking at her differently, and fancied the feelings that bubbled up in her when he did. Instead of suppressing them, like the logical side of her wanted to do, she allowed herself to dwell in them and wonder if he had any familiar flutters too. A log cracked suddenly in the fire pulling her from her speculation.

"Draco?"

Jumping slightly at hearing his first-name, he turned to look at Hermione. "Yeah?"

"Will you let me tell you about Ron… about what happened to him?"

Caught off guard at her question, he wondered why she wanted to talk about Ron. He'd considered that she had avoided talking much about the painful things, and was reassured that she felt she wanted to tell him. "Yes, tell me about Ron. What happened to him?"

She didn't answer right away, but kept her eyes trained on the flames licking the wood in the grate.

"As we were running away from the battle, the Death Eaters were close, throwing hexes everywhere. I tripped and fell, and was hit by a stinging hex. Ron came back to help me… that's when a Death Eater, I don't know who, pointed his wand at me, and I saw the flash of green. I knew it was the killing curse, but I couldn't do anything except close my eyes… I didn't expect to open them again.

"Then there was a hand grabbing me and pulling me up. I thought it was Ron… but it wasn't... I opened my eyes to see it was George, Ron's brother. He was pulling me hard to the gates, and that's when I looked back to see Ron lying where I had been."

Draco stayed silent, knowing she wasn't finished.

After a moment, she turned towards him. She couldn't clearly see his face as her eyes were clouded with tears. She thought she'd stopped crying tears for Ron a long time ago, but here they were - fresh, raw, and painful. "Draco, he died for me. He stepped in front of a curse meant for me. He really, truly loved me, and I don't know if I will have a chance at that kind of love again. Sometimes, I feel as if everyone I've ever loved, everyone that has cared for me… is just... gone."

"That's not true, Hermione," Draco encouraged gently, uttering her given name for the first time. "You have a beautiful daughter, Rose. She looks at you like you're her whole world. I know she loves you." He wanted to add that Scorpius cared about her too, and admittedly even he did, but kept that to himself.

"I know," she replied quickly, averting her gaze again, embarrassed at her weak moment. She was surprised by his reply, assuming he'd make a witty remark about brave Gryffindors. Instead, he reminded her of her greatest strength, her daughter and her love. She didn't understand why she felt compelled to tell him about Ron. It wasn't something she could even talk about before, but maybe her confession was a way to let him go.

Draco watched her face as it turned from pained to thoughtful. He didn't want to dismiss her feelings, but he was curious and inquired, "So, is George Rose's father?"

Hermione wasn't expecting Draco to ask that, and giggled. _Geez, my emotions are all over the place_ , she thought.

"Yes, he is. George and I were able to meet up with a few other survivors at a safe house designated for Order members. There was Ginny, Bill and Fleur, and about ten others from our year. After a day or two, more joined us; Kingsley, Professor McGonagall, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, Neville..."

Suddenly enraged, Draco demanded, "You mean the Order still exists? Why are you here then? Why don't you go to them?"

Shaking her head, Hermione answered, "I don't know if they are. I lost them."

"What do you mean you lost them? Granger, you're not making any sense." She noticed his obvious frustration as he ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up a bit.

"Calm down, just let me back up a bit... After we met up in the safe house we didn't know what to do. Death Eaters had taken over. Like you've said, without Voldemort having them under his thumbnail, they went crazy. We couldn't safely fight back yet - half of us were still nursing wounds from the Final Battle. So we hid out. A few of us would leave to gather supplies, and we'd get gossip along the way. We found out who died, and who lived. We heard that Death Eaters were taking up the Ministry and anyone who got in their way was killed. It was one of those missions that George and I were spotted. We couldn't go back to the safe house and risk potentially leading the Death Eaters to the remaining Order, so we went on the run for a week. When we went back to the safe house, it was empty."

" _They left you guys?"_

"Well, yes, but no… They left clues for us to find them, but we chose not to follow them." With one look at Draco's face, Hermione continued defensively, "Look, we didn't want to fight anymore. We needed a break. You don't understand! I lost my two best friends. Both died to save me! George lost his twin brother, and he was a broken man. Being around the others made things more depressing. They either gave us looks of pity, or asked us to get over it and fight because that is what the dead would've wanted. We just couldn't… we wanted to run away and hide… so we did."

Looking down, she heaved a sigh. She hadn't admitted any of that out loud before. Her relationship with George was not one based in love, but comfort. They both drew to each other, because they shared the same pain. She knew there was nothing beyond that, though. Just two old friends, keeping each other warm through the otherwise lonely nights.

Draco didn't say anything. He desperately wanted there to be a hope of the Order coming back; to put things in its rightful place, but he also realized she hadn't been this vulnerable with him in the time they had shared. The significance of her willingly opening these painful wounds to him was certainly not lost on him. She was giving him something, sharing a piece of herself, and he wanted to give her something too. He knew exactly what she felt. He knew the urgency in fleeing and not looking back. He needed her to know she wasn't alone in her pain. He took a deep breath, and grabbed her hand, pulling it to him.

She looked down at their clasped hands, and was surprised at how natural, almost instinctive, it felt to have her fingers intertwined in his. She accepted his affection easily, and it took her unawares. Deciding to let the moment happen without over-thinking, she trained her eyes on his face. She pressed her knuckles against his and asked timidly, "What happened with you and… I mean, was it Pansy?"

Looking into the fire, he gathered his thoughts. He felt her squeeze his hand again, reassuring him. When he met her brown eyes he couldn't look away. "I already told you we fled. We actually got away easily as the Death Eaters thought we were chasing you lot down. Once we were in hiding, it became more difficult. They realized we turned traitors. They put traps on all of our homes. We travelled mainly at night, but it was no use; they always seemed to find us... Theo was killed when the barn we were sleeping in was raided." He paused, watching as a tear fell from her eye and ran down her cheek.

She wiped fiercely at her face with her free hand and nodded for him to continue. "We decided then, that sticking close to muggle towns and camping was the safest way. We would apparate to our camp sites and immediately put wards up. Blaise got so good at setting the wards, one time snatchers were right next to us, and they never knew." He smiled remembering how proud Blaise was.

Glancing back down, he realized how much this hurt to relive. "When Astoria told me she was pregnant I felt like our world caved even more. She'd just turned seventeen, and I was going to be nineteen in a couple of months. I was scared. We were young, and being on the run left everything uncertain. Blaise and Pansy were understanding though. Pansy took care of Astoria, and made sure she had the proper diet. She snuck into Diagon Alley to get Astoria's potions and even stole some books about childbirth. She did amazing, considering she gave birth in a tent. I didn't want to raise my son this way, always on the run, so Astoria and I decided it would be best to fake our deaths..." he trailed off, lost in his own thoughts of the past. "Astoria died when Scorpius was one," he said, voice strained.

They both stared into the fire, neither needing to fill the silence. Their fingers clasped each other's tightly, communicating to the other the complete understanding, strength, and trust being shared. Draco looked up towards her face, the flame's glow reflecting in her amber eyes and illuminating her delicate cheeks. He reached out his hand to brush away a stray tear and she breathed into the motion, relaxing into his palm. He knew then that he needed her companionship, and would do anything to keep her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her curls, his eyes returning to the simmering flames.

"Hermione?" Draco asked suddenly. "Did you feel that just now? The wards…" he trailed off, standing and taking her with him. Shoving her behind him, he backed towards the tent. He could feel the wards begin to break. "We have to leave now! Grab the kids!"

Not needing to be told twice, Hermione ran the short distance to the tent and barged in as she felt the wards go down completely. The sounds of at least half a dozen people running into their campsite reached her, and she heard people throwing random curses. Hermione reached the two kids, now fully awake and suddenly frightened. She grabbed each of their hands and stood waiting for Draco. He wasn't coming, and the voices were getting louder, closer. Hexes hit the tent, and she was grateful she cast a separate protection charm on the canvas.

When the tent flap was roughly pushed aside, Hermione stepped in front of the kids, gripping both of their wrists in her left hand as she clutched her wand tightly in her right. Seeing the familiar blonde man, she lowered her wand, but didn't weaken her defensive stance.

"We need to go NOW!" Draco bellowed, taking three long strides and grabbing Scorpius. Hermione picked up Rose, and he felt her grab his shoulder ready for him to disapparate. Before he could, a blast knocked them apart sending pieces of broken glass, splintered wood, and blinding dust everywhere. Luckily, he was able to shield Scorpius from any harm, but he didn't see Hermione or Rose in the wreckage. "Granger!"

"Draco!" she screamed. He turned towards the voice seeing Hermione holding Rose, immediately noticing her eyes filled with fear. She was looking past him.

The whole scene seemed to slow as he looked from her face to the entrance of the tent. He recognized the form of a huge, masked Death Eater. He chanced one look back at Hermione, meeting her eyes for a split second. They both knew what they had to do. They couldn't fight. They had to run. He tilted his head a fraction, and she raised her wand turning on the spot. _CRACK!_

Raising his own wand, he seized his son and disapparated away. Away from the Death Eaters. Away from their tent. Away from Hermione.

o0o0o

When she disapparated into the night, she subconsciously thought of the first campsite they shared together. The moment her feet hit the ground, she dropped to her knees holding Rose tightly, and cried.

Through her sobs, she wracked her brain. _How could I have been so stupid? Something must've gone wrong. I was too comfortable with Draco there, let my guard down, got sloppy._ Hermione didn't know what distressed her more, the thought of never feeling safe again, or never seeing Draco again. _She would probably have to let both go now_.

She didn't think of setting the wards till she heard a loud crack nearby. Whipping around and pulling Rose behind her back, she held out her wand against the expected Death Eater.

She saw him, a dark shadow with blonde hair turned silver in the moonlight. The shadow began to move, and she noticed a smaller shadow next to him, following his steps in a circle. The tall man was raising protective wards. "Draco?" she whispered.

He stopped, wand still in the air, mid-charm, and turned in time to catch a sobbing Hermione in one arm as Rose leaped into the other. "How? How did you know? This place?" he asked breathlessly.

After a firm squeeze, he set Rose down. His arm dropped from around Hermione's shoulder to her waist as he offered her a handkerchief, embroidered with a silver M, from his pocket. She calmed her breathing while she discreetly wiped away the evidence of her sobs from her cheeks and nose. She confessed as she nestled into his chest, "I didn't know. This was just the first place I thought of."

With his arm still wrapped around her waist, Draco slid his other hand into Hermione's curls, and pulled her tight towards him. "I thought I would never find you again," he whispered into her hair. He clutched her tighter, their bodies fitting together, and she slid her hands around his waist and drew her chin level with his face. Her nose brushed his cheek for a moment, and without hesitation his mouth found hers. Hermione's lips were soft but firm in their insistence, returning his kiss eagerly. As far as first kisses go, this wasn't as sloppy or awkward as Draco had experienced in the past. Even with Astoria, he recalled bumped teeth and tangled tongues. No, _this_ , this kiss was everything. Everything he wanted to say but didn't have words for. Every fear, every doubt, every insecurity, he gave it all to her.

Her lips parted slightly for him, and Draco tasted the lingering Firewhisky, reminding him of their campfire. The heat of their kiss scorched his mouth, and his hunger for her burned deep in his core. Out of the flames was born a profound realization of his need for her, and it branded itself onto his heart. He wanted her more than he could ever remember wanting anything, more than he ever needed anything.

They both exhaled as she broke their lips apart, a deep rose flushing her cheeks as her lashes turned down and away from him. He tilted her chin up with his thumb, and butterscotch met steel grey, as he searched her eyes for regret or shame. He found the most brilliant look of desire there behind the gold flecks of her iris. His eyes betrayed his heart's conviction; she would be his undoing.

Hermione's arms flew around his neck, pulling him close once more, and she whispered, "I can't believe you're here."

He reassured her with a gentle brush of his fingers against her spine, "I will always find you, Hermione."

o0o0o

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	5. Remembrance (Number 5)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Remembrance (Number 5)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: T  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Birth Trauma, Character Death**

* * *

 **Remembrance**

* * *

 **Special thank you to Wandlorian's Sarah Taylor and Rachel Wieble for helping me so tremendously.**

Draco gets up, his bare feet padding down the hall, and peeks into his daughter's room where she sleeps curled up on her side, just like her mother. He keeps walking and slips into his son's room. "Happy Birthday Son," he whispers. He leans down, kissing his son and heads back to his room, regretting that he needs to go into work for a few hours before he can spend the day with his family. As he sits on the edge of the bed, head falling into his hands, he slips into remembrance.

" _Draco! Draco! Wake up!"_

 _Draco slowly came awake to his wife's hand smacking his chest, and he could faintly hear a child crying down the hall._

" _Mmmmm?"_

" _Go to her please! You said you would."_

" _'Let the house elf deal with it," he mumbled._

" _DRACO!"_

" _Ok! Ok!" He crawled out of their deliciously warm bed, leaned over to kiss his very pregnant wife and shuffled down the hall._

 _He opened the door to his daughter's room and found her standing in her crib crying._

" _Hush now little lady." He reached down to pick her up, her small arms circling his neck._

" _Da," she whimpered, her breath still coming in hiccups. "Da."_

" _Hush now my little Lyra. Everything's fine. Should we go lay with mummy?"_

" _Ya! Mummum!"_

 _He carried the little girl to their room, snuggling her between them._

 _Hermione rolled on her side to rub her back. The toddler's breath quickly evened out, and soon both girls had drifted to sleep._

 _Draco looked at the clock and sighed; Forty-five minutes until he has to get up- might as well start his day now. He showers, dresses, and takes one last wistful look at his sleeping wife and daughter._

He shakes himself out of his reverie, smiling longingly at the bed. It's the same every year. It would be so nice to climb back into the warmth. Instead, he heads to get washed and dressed.

A short time later leads him downstairs to the kitchen where hot tea is waiting for him, as usual. He sits and drinks as he mulls some more.

 _His work days are so different from his home life. Hermione has softened him, he guessed. After the war, she badgered and nearly harassed him, just to get him out of the manor he used to call home. His work persona was very similar to his grumpy, angsty teenage self, though he had realized that he needed to treat people nicer or they simply wouldn't work well for him. He'd either have no staff, or staff that did the bare minimum. He paid higher than usual to offset his attitude._

He smiles, recalling Hermione's interference.

 _She'd admitted that she always had a crush on him at school, and even when he was being an evil bastard, she could still appreciate his good looks and his dedication to his family- mostly his family's decisions. She may have thought they were awful decisions, but would she have been able to do different if the roles were reversed? She was his angel, his Hermione._

He sighs and gets up, banishing his cup to the sink with a flick of his wand. He leaves the modest three-story house to apparate to work. The office is quiet this early.

"Mandy," he greets his secretary with a nod.

"Conference call at 8:30, sir, and your meeting is at 9:15."

"Thank you." He retreats into his office and closes the door, thankful for the peace. He sits at his desk, soon lost in thought again.

 _Hermione is laying on the couch, waving her arms and venting. "AND THEN!" She exclaims. "The mashed potatoes go flying, PLOP, onto the floor. No mummum she says, I no like tatoes."_

 _Draco chuckled while rubbing his wife's feet. "It sounds like maybe she's got your stubbornness and some of my temper." Hermione just huffs at him._

" _I'm sorry love, back to the office for me. I just thought you might need some adult conversation for lunch."_

" _Yes, well, I did." She smiled up at him. "Bring home take away?"_

 _He laughed as he stood to leave. "Yes, love."_

He blinks and sighs, getting down to work- a few reports to go over, and a file to review before his call. He works steadily until Mandy informs him that his conference call is ready.

It turns out to be exasperating. The financial backer wants immediate proof of his product working, but he needs money to produce a prototype. They compromise with a partial payment now and the rest when the prototype is done. Draco grits his teeth and refrains from calling the backer names until after the call is ended. This makes things more difficult since he was hoping to start production soon, but there is not much he can do. He leaves his office and strolls to the roof for ten minutes of fresh air before his meeting. Hopefully this one would go better.

 _He floo-called home before he left the office to see if she needed anything else. She was barefoot, standing in the kitchen - a goddess-with her hair a frazzled halo around her head._

" _No Draco, I think I'm ok, just supper please. And could you have another talk with Bitsy? I think she's trying to make dessert again!"_

He grins as he heads back down to his office, still thinking of the wars between Hermione and the house-elf, Bitsy. They only had the thing part time, too! They shared her with his mother.

The meeting goes well, and Draco feels ready to leave at eleven. He floo's to a local bakery to pick up the cake he had ordered. As they box it up, he takes a seat.

 _Upon finishing supper, Draco gets Lyra ready for bed. She's pouting, not wanting to go to sleep. "Lyra Melody Malfoy, you get your bum into this room right now!" He's mock stern, but she darts in and lifts her arms, "Up Da! Up." He gets her settled in and after a story, he turns off the light and leaves._

" _Mistress Hermione?" Bitsy cautiously speaks. "I is done the laundry, it is folded and ready to be put away. I coulds magic it upstairs?" she asks hopefully._

 _Hermione sighs, "No Bitsy, we're fine. We can put our own laundry away, but thank you so much."_

" _Goodnight Miss and Master, I am being excited to meet the baby soon." She quietly disapparates with a pop back to Narcissa's home._

 _Draco sits next to his wife. He's reading- one hand holding the book, and the other gently rubs her belly. "Ok love?"_

" _Some small contractions, and a back ache tonight. Probably just means he's getting ready."_

" _Anything you need?"_

" _More foot rubs?" she grinned._

 _She eventually dozes off, the book resting on her belly. He takes the book and gently wakes her, helping her up the stairs and into bed._

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He jumps a little, startled out of his reminiscing. The baker is standing next to him with the cake. "Ah! Thank you." He turns and leaves for home.

His mother and Hermione's parents have arrived, and the house seems chaotic. He passes the cake to Bitsy to take care of, greeting everyone in the process. Mrs. Granger is arranging lunch. He accepts some tea and makes his way into the garden to watch his children play, smiling at their game.

 _Draco reaches around his wife and rests a hand on her belly, feeling the small movements of their unborn baby. "Little Scorpius is full of energy tonight."_

" _For the thousandth time, not Scorpius! Maybe it's another girl."_

" _Scorpina?" Draco teases._

 _She reaches over to lightly smack his shoulder. "How about Ariana or Jake?"_

" _I thought we had decided!" Draco exclaimed._

" _Scorpius Draco Malfoy and Cissabelle Hermione Malfoy are not going to be our children's names!"_

 _Draco snorts at her outburst._

" _How about Leo Jake Malfoy and Ariana Narcissa Malfoy. You get a star name, and I get my grandpa's name for a boy, and I get the first name, and you have your mother's name for a girl."_

" _Ugh! Jake, it's just so muggle and ... common." Realizing his mistake instantly, he sits up and adds, "Not that being common and muggle is a BAD thing."_

" _Oh please- Fine! You think of a second name if Jake is so bad! My grandfather was the kindest, bravest man I knew! But you choose! I hope he hates his name and he can blame YOU!" She huffs and rolls closer to her side of the bed, maliciously pulling as much blanket over as possible._

 _Draco hugs her back again. "I'm sorry. I'll choose three amazing possibilities by tomorrow."_

 _She just snorts, but squeezes his arm. He knows he's partially forgiven, so they settle down for the night._

"Dad!" Both children have finally realized he's sitting there and they race over. "Is it party time yet?" his son inquires while jumping up and down.

"Not until one. Go inside and wash up. Nana Granger probably has lunch ready by now."

They scamper off. Draco swirls the tea in his cup.

 _He gets up early, wakes Lyra, and they floo to Diagon Alley._

" _Da? What shop for?"_

" _A gift for the baby. It should be coming to meet us soon."_

" _Bayybeeee," she sing-songs._

 _He grins,"That's right. What do you think we should get?"_

" _Pretty mummum."_

" _Something pretty for Mum? That's a good idea. How about for the baby?"_

" _Owl"_

" _Oh? Well love, I'm not sure a baby needs an owl."_

" _OWL!"_

" _Hmm, maybe an owl stuffie?"_

" _Owl…"_

 _They end up with a pair of pearl earrings, which are chosen to attract protection and are known for their calming effects, strengthening relationships, and keeping children safe. Hermione might need some extra calming with 2 children. They also bring home two owl stuffies, because apparently, "Me one, baby one," was what she had meant._

 _They arrive home where Bitsy is anxiously waiting for them, wringing her hands._

" _Mistress Narcissa came and took Mistress Hermione to St. Mungo's."_

 _Draco started to panic, but they have a plan. He floo-called Harry and Ginny, and once he knows that they're home, steps through with Lyra to leave her in their care._

" _The baby is going to come soon! You're going to stay here and we'll come get you when the baby is here."_

" _Aunnie Ginnee? Harree?"_

" _Yup! Let's go upstairs and see what new toys I have!" Ginny takes her hand._

 _Harry gives Draco a pat on the shoulder as he offers him the pot of Floo powder._

 _He floo's to the hospital and attempts to curb his impatience with the useless staff. He finally makes his way to Hermione's side._

" _About time," she grumbles with a smile._

 _He reaches down to kiss her, caresses her cheek, and pushes her hair from her face._

 _His mother quietly leaves the room to give them some space._

" _Is Scorpius ready to meet us yet?"_

' _Draco!" she groans._

" _Ok, so how about Leo Aldridge Malfoy?"_

 _She glares and grunts as she breathes through a contraction._

" _Ok, so no. That's ok! I've got some more excellent suggestions. Leo Chetwin Malfoy?" He grins in excitement._

" _WHAT!? Chetwin? SERIOUSLY?" She partially growls this out._

" _Right.." He's feeling a bit panicked now. "Ok, how about Firth, Prescott, or Udolf?"_

" _UDOLF!?" she shrieks. A moan slips from her mouth as another contraction takes hold._

" _What? It means prosperous wolf. I thought it was nice." He's quite proud that he'd even looked up the meanings._

" _Let's… just … decide … after… the… baby... is…here!" She takes a breath between each word._

 _The mediwizard comes in and casts two diagnostic spells-one for her, and one for the baby._

" _Looking good Mrs. Malfoy. You can start pushing when you're ready."_

" _Oh, I'm ready," she hisses._

Draco sighs and reluctantly gets up. He supposes he should eat something before a horde of family - mostly Weasley's- descends on his home and makes things even crazier. He eats alone as the kids have already finished and have been sent to their rooms to change. He heads up after to make sure they're obeying and to change himself. He helps Lyra zip up her party dress, then helps his son with finding matching socks and away they go again. He shuffles to his room and sits on the edge of his bed.

" _Just one more push and you'll get to meet your lovely babe."_

 _She grunts, pushes, and the baby enters this world with a shriek and a head full of blonde hair._

" _It's a boy!" The mediwizard exclaims._

 _They turn to each other and grin._

 _The diagnostic spell on Hermione starts to flash red for alert. The mediwizard swiftly passes the baby to the nurse._

" _Mr. Malfoy, you'll have to leave now."_

" _But, no! I'm not going anywhere! What's going on? Why is it flashing?"_

 _Hermione has gone pale, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Blood has started oozing from between her legs._

 _The nurse with the baby wraps her hand around Draco's arm and leads him out._

" _She's having a small hemorrhage. With some blood replenishing potion, she should be fine." she says quietly._

 _She leads him to a private room and hands him the tiny, snuffling baby. Draco is in shock. His eyes wide, he wants to rush to her side, but now he's seemingly responsible for this little boy_.

 _What seems like hours pass, and his mother finds his side. He is frozen in his seat, yet when she tries to take the baby from him, he refuses. The healers come, and a nurse is able to pry the baby from his arms. He hears only snippets of their words._

" _Mr. Malfoy, hemorrhage, weak heart, grave prognosis, sorry." He bonelessly slides out of his chair, tears falling. He looks up at the mediwizard._

" _But we knew about her heart!" He's starting to get angry. "YOU said it would be fine, she would be FINE!" His mother interferes, and sends them from the room. She's then hugging him, but he barely notices. How? What now?_

 _He draws a steely calm about him and demands his baby, his boy._

 _He takes him back to see Hermione. They sit next to her and talk. "Hey sweetheart. Here's our perfect boy. I'm not sure how this is fair, well…" He trails off. "It's not, and I'm not sure how I'm going to do this."_

 _He leans over the bed and kisses her cheek, her mouth, her forehead. He burrows his face into her wild tresses, breathing in the scent of her hair.. Sitting up straight, he wipes his face and looks down at his new son._

" _Jack Leo Malfoy, this is your mother." He lays the baby next to her head._

 _After what feels like the most painful few minutes of his life, he picks up his son, cuddles him close, and leaves._

He finally gets up to change. It's been five years, yet it's still like yesterday. Losing Hermione nearly ended him. It was only his two children that kept him going. His mother and hers helped so much at the beginning, and he was forever thankful for every minute of their time. Making his way into the bathroom, he thoroughly scrubs his face, trying to wash away the sense of sadness and switch his mindset to birthday celebrations. He hears party guests arriving, both from the floo and apparating and arriving through the front door. Standing in front of the mirror, he practices some smiles and tries again when they look like grimaces. He travels down the stairs to greet the guests.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	6. Paper Cranes (Number 6)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Paper Cranes (Number 6)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Violence, War Themes, Character Death**

* * *

 **Paper Cranes**

* * *

 _A bushy haired girl slid his train compartment door open, her wide brown eyes skirting around giving a quick scan of the area._

 _"Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one." The exasperation was clear in her tone; toad hunting was not what she thought she would be doing on her first experience on the Hogwarts Express._

 _The blonde boy glanced at her quickly and shook his head. He looked down and continued to fold the paper with precise and practiced motions. Hermione Granger, ever inquisitive, looked at what he was preoccupied with for a moment._

 _"What are you making? Can I see?"_

 _She was then subjected to her first Malfoy smirk as he made the final fold with deft movements and pulled out his wand. With a graceful flourish, he swished and flicked his wrist incanting "Wingardium Leviosa", directing the crane to fly towards her._

 _His smirk turned into a true smile at her reaction. The delicate crane fluttered slowly, circling as it descended, and came down to rest on her open palm. She looked back to the blonde boy, met his grey eyes and beamed at him._

 _Deciding to give her a chance, he gestured for her to sit next to him and she eagerly walked over, analysing and appraising his craftsmanship._

 _"This is so beautiful; can you show me how to make one?"_

 _Draco preened at her approval and moved his collection of paper to rest between them._

 _"What's your name? I'm Draco Malfoy," he spoke, with a manner laced with an aristocratic flair._

 _"Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you, sir!" she regally boasted in a playful tone, tilting her chin and offering her hand to shake._

 _He smirked again, taking her hand in his and bowed his head in an overly formal fashion. He very much thought he would like to be friends with this intriguing girl._

 _Draco passed her a piece of paper and they began folding. He admired how fast she learned and soon they had two cranes elegantly floating around the compartment. They mutually decided that a flock was needed and so they spent the rest of the train ride together, chatting about their creations and thoroughly enjoying each other's company._

 _For the first time in both of their short lives they had made a friend. They were drawn to each other and the new friendship was easy. Even in moments of silence, where they would just observe the floating cranes, it was peaceful and carefree. Hermione had felt the happiness grow in her heart as the hours passed, with the train winding through the Scottish countryside towards Hogwarts. For Draco, the train ride had easily been the happiest moment of his life to date, he never wanted to leave. The thought of leaving the compartment made his throat tight and sorrow clawed at his insides. He didn't want to lose the perfection of what the moment had been. For the first time in his life he had hope for his future and he didn't want to lose it, or his new friend Hermione, who was the tangible embodiment of this new feeling._

 _They both alighted the train with weariness, and were separated in the mass of students clamouring to leave the station. Hermione searched for the pale blonde boy and meandered through the crowd being jostled uncomfortably. Her heart raced and she grew frantic trying to find him again, her eyes prickling with tears at the thought of having to enter the massive castle alone._

 _She didn't want to be alone anymore._

 _Her logical mind processed that he couldn't be too far away and her anxiety slowly receded. She closed her eyes and took some deep calming breaths, slowly exhaling and inhaling. It was a trick her father had told her about; it never failed to help._

 _A familiar sensation prickled her senses and she became aware of something tickling against her hand limply held at her side. Nervous yet hopeful eyes looked down and noticed a paper crane fluttering against her skin. The beautiful crane was one of his, she could tell by the added decorative crease he had made on one of the wings. It was her favourite out of all the ones they had made, a treasure she would keep with her always. She held it protectively to her chest and smiled._

 _~~0~~_

 **"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how"**

 **Friedrich Nietzche**

 _~~0~~_

Draco Malfoy couldn't help but reminisce on the choices that had led him to this point, overlooking the chaos of war and death, and the desperation that had fully encompassed both sides. It was four years since the last battle of Hogwarts and here they all were again, fighting amongst the smashed and beaten ruins of what had once been the finest educational establishment in Wizarding Britain.

The castle was a hauntingly apt metaphor for the war itself, with its scorched and ruined stone walls- splintered and fractured, no longer being able to hold in place.

The very structure surrounding the chaos seemed to weep and crumble in despair as the living fought to the death over blood.

It was all meaningless.

In a way, he thought it was fitting that the end would be here where all this began in the first place. If the Sorting Hat hadn't made the _choice_ to place them in their respective houses, would things have been different? If Dumbledore hadn't made the _choice_ to leave Potter in the dark, would he have survived in the last battle on these grounds? If _he himself_ had made the _choice…_

No.

It was too late.

Too much time had passed and too much had been lost for redemption now. He wouldn't have accepted it for himself, let alone the other side accepting him, and thinking of what could have been was pointless.

It would never be. And she would never know.

So there he stood, shoulder to shoulder with the Dark Lord's inner sanctum, watching from higher ground as the armies below fought, each side with conviction, and fighting for what they deemed was "right". The Dark Lord stood resolutely at his side waiting to call to arms his last wave of fighters, which would descend upon the last resistance fighters of the Light, easily annihilating them. It would be a slaughter and end the war.

Draco stood there, doing nothing, just like he had countless times before. He had become skilled at being a Lieutenant, he was favoured in the Death Eater ranks, and highly respected for his genius aptitude for strategy. He hid behind the public persona he had created of calm indifference, his cold aloof expression always firmly in place betraying nothing. It was this visage that was currently in place as his eyes swept over the battles raging.

On the inside, he was screaming.

Hogwarts had taken everything from him, from them all really; he hated this place with every fibre of his being. He hated it even more, knowing that she would lose her life here and he would be still standing there.

Still doing nothing.

 _~~0~~_

Hermione ran, her boots pounding through the rubble and slick grime of blasted limbs, gore and bodies. It disgusted her more that she was immune to this now and barely glimpsed at the corpses littering her path. The aerial fleet had fallen and now she had to pull a full retreat further into the castle ruins to protect what was left of her soldiers. She had lead them fearlessly since Harry's defeat and it had all finally been brought to a climax again where it had all started. They had deliberately forced the battle to take place at Hogwarts, using their detailed knowledge of the grounds to their advantage. The grounds were large enough for the two armies to converge and as she had predicted, Voldemort had brought his entire force to wipe them out once and for all.

Hermione had planned this, and held back her remorse for her dead companions. They had all known the risks and had decided the plan was worth it, even though it would be the most devastating action undertaken in this entire war. It was a desperate move made by desperate people who were left with no more choices.

For months they had researched and developed a spell that would only be used as a final resort. It was worse than all the Unforgivables combined and Hermione knew she would have to be the one to cast it. She couldn't think about the fallout, right now she needed to keep her thoughts from drifting and get to the last vestiges of the front lines to force the retreat.

Her wand fired out nonverbal spells at straggling duellers when she neared a stone archway and bounded around it to enter the fray beyond. It was madness. There were Tarantaculas, Giants and Dementors killing and maiming with ease as they weaved in between the masked Death Eaters, who were firing off the darkest curses with shouts of rage. The numbers were slightly in favour to her side, but they were slipping.

They had no more reinforcements, they had no more backups. They would have to use the spell and they would have to use it soon. There were just under one hundred soldiers of the Order of the Phoenix, that was all that was left against the rampaging forces of the Dark Lord. With the spell, they had one last chance and all that would be left was the Elder Wand in Voldemort's possession. It had become a chant in Hermione's head as she started to group her forces back further and further into the castle. It became an obsessive litany, and all of her being focused on what she had to do.

 _Cast the spell, destroy the wand, cast the spell, destroy the wand._

Sudden pops of Apparition startled her and she turned towards the haunted faces of her fighters to see what had happened. All around her the Death Eater's and dark creatures had left and the Order was standing in near silence, with only the moans of the dying and wounded and her own sharp pants of breath hitting the air.

It was too quiet.

Neville limped towards her and gestured with a blood streaked hand towards the large open grounds outside where a wave of black was slowly making its way toward them. The robed figures appeared to be a never ending, cascading wall of smoke with their macabre masks of death being the only indication that they were corporeal beings.

Hermione looked at Neville's face and absorbed his haggard appearance that contrasted with his firmly set jaw and the fierce glaze of determination in his eyes.

"You know what to do, its time." Her voice didn't waver and she spoke with authority, not showing her weakness or fear to her soldiers.

Neville nodded and pulled her into a fierce embrace knowing that this could be their final minutes if the spell failed to work.

"You can do this, Hermione, we can end this."

A brief nod was all she gave in reply as she moved to stand in front of the oncoming dark wave alone. She didn't look back and she didn't look up to see the Dark Lord or the blonde man beside him watching her from a distance. Behind her, what was left of the Order began chanting out wards they had created, which grew and spread like a dome creating an invisible wall between themselves and the oncoming wave of death. The hundreds marched ever closer with their approach sending waves of louder and louder vibrations running through the ground beneath her feet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath inhaling and exhaling as she had done countless times in the past, it did little to help her now. Her hand went to her pocket to clutch her talisman of hope that remained with her always, it brought her comfort and solace and above all the reassurance that there was still any life in her left.

She stroked the paper wings and whispered "This will free us both, it will free everyone. This is for us."

All the noise around her vanished and her chanting started, she looked to the mass marching ever closer before her and raised her wand.

" _Lumos Solar Maxima!_ " she shouted, finalising the spell that would end the war.

The effect was instant and a bright beam of white light spread throughout the Dark Lord's army and rose upward in a mushroom cloud of light, heat, and the deafening screams of the slain. The spell harnessed the power of the sun and the aftershock stole the breath from her chest even behind the safety of the specially designed wards. A wall of bright flame rose up and over the protective barrier and slowly cleared away revealing the aftermath of what her spell had done. Before her was a thick covering of ash that blanketed the ground and rendered the area nothing but a sea of black dust, where once an entire army had stood.

She was numb with horror and shock at how effective the spell had been and stood looking at what she had done with horrified eyes and barely functioning breaths that left her panting and her heart racing.

She had done it. She had given them a chance at the cost of her soul.

 _~~0~~_

Draco looked at the scorched remains below, at what had once been the entire fleet of the Dark Lord's army. He had seen gore, he had seen limbs ripped and eyes gouged. He had seen skin torn from bodies before and people mutilated and begging. He had seen horrific death in his time but on a scale such as this, it was both awe inspiring and the singularly most shocking display of power and magic he had ever seen. His chest ached at the anguish she would be feeling and the pride surged through his veins at how selfless she had been to sacrifice so much.

She had wiped out an army.

He knew this would torment her for the rest of her life and he felt sick with guilt at his inaction. The Order had the superior numbers now and all they needed was the Elder Wand destroyed and then victory would be theirs. He knew what he had to do. It was time for him to act and prove what had always been his truth. He had never told her how he felt, but he could show her in this final act. He would sacrifice, too.

 _~~0~~_

It could have been hours or days since she had cast the spell. Time had stopped and everything around her had ceased to be recognisable.

She couldn't feel.

The ash and debris floating in the wind against her didn't register. The previous aches and injuries on her too thin frame had vanished. Maybe she had died in the blast? Maybe this was death? This feeling of nothingness and everything stripped bare so that there was no more pain, or love, or hurt. Maybe it was better this way?

She had nothing left, she _was_ nothing. A shell of what she had previously been, in a life that she had fought for and ultimately lost. Maybe this was true peace? Not that she would ever deserve such a thing again after what she had done.

The sky above had changed hues and was now lightening as the dawn approached signalling a new day. The sun appeared mocking, its fate always unchanged, as light flickered and danced over the decay of earth, soil, and flesh.

And there Hermione stood, the warm rays chilling her and making her gasp as awareness slowly returned. She looked around and saw Neville approaching looking exhausted and concerned at her finally breaking out of her trance like state.

"You'd already done so much, Hermione, we finished it, it's over. Voldemort is dead."

The need to voice if they were dead too sprang to her lips, but she hesitated and tried to slip back into soldier mode to respond.

"I need to see, show me."

He nodded and grasped her wrist tightly, Apparating her to the hill where Voldemort and his inner circle had been watching and waiting.

The scene before her was much like what she had encountered time and time before. The ground was strewn with black robed bodies, with a few of her own fighters laying in between them. She hoped more than anything that this would be the last time she would have to see death on this scale.

Neville didn't let go of her arm and was explaining how they had rallied and taken down the last of the Death Eater's to end the war. He hesitated briefly and seemed unsure how to continue, but met her eyes, and finished the tale.

"Hermione, there's something else you need to know. Just after you cast the spell a Death Eater turned on Voldemort and snapped the Elder Wand. Some of the others panicked and fled but the rest remained and he was killed. He was wandless at the time."

She heard what he was saying and an overwhelming sense of dread clawed at her chest. But, she knew. She knew who had given them their chance.

"Hermione, it was Draco Malfoy." He gestured to one of the black robed figures and as if she was drawn to him even now, her feet moved unconsciously towards his too still body.

She knelt down beside him and drank in his calm features, so still and peaceful in death. His platinum hair was slightly swaying in the breeze and gently brushed against his pale marble skin; she'd always admired his skin. Her hand reached out to clasp his and for the first time in years she felt something shatter in herself and a sob rose to her throat. She wanted to scream and wail and shake him, _anything_ , she would do anything if it meant he would come back.

For years they had played the roles they had been forced to fill, both at opposite sides at every turn. She never stopped being drawn to him and occasionally they would meet eyes and be back on that train again like they had been so many years ago. It would always be brief, but she felt it and she knew he felt it too. They had never had a choice and had never stood a chance. It was never meant to be, but something had been there and they had both refused to let it fester and die as the world burned around them.

Her fingers lovingly stroked his closed hand, willing it with all her might to open and return the gesture. If only once, just once she could hold him and say everything she never had the chance to. Her fingers brushed against something crumpled in his fist and her eyebrows crinkled as she slowly opened his palm to reveal a white paper crane. It was the first one she had made and after all this time, he had kept it with him. Her name was written on one of the wings in his elegant script. Seeing it finally broke her down and ripped her heart into pieces. A heartbroken sob finally escaped her and tears flowed down her cheeks as she drowned in grief and longing at what had never and could never be.

Through her despair her own hand reached into her pocket and pulled out her own crane, his crane, and she placed it alongside the one she had made for him on his chest over his heart. This was the moment she could give them what they had wanted, even with him gone, she could still give them closure and what they had longed for.

She tilted forward and rested her forehead against his, gently brushing her warm lips against his icy cold ones, and whispered;

"I loved you, too."

Fin

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	7. A Thousand Years (Number 7)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: A Thousand Years (Number 7)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: Post War  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: None**

* * *

 **A Thousand Years**

* * *

Some things were best kept secret, that much Hermione knew for sure. Generally she didn't keep a lot from her friends. So close to Harry and Ron as she was that she never felt the need to hide anything. Ever since that first year of Hogwarts and that blasted troll they had shared everything. Being on the run together hadn't helped either, sharing a tent with two hormonal teenage boys was perhaps the most difficult and disgusting thing she had ever done and she had done some disturbing things in the past. She knew things about them that she doubted they even knew themselves. Never had she kept a secret from them. Never that is, until fifth year happened.

The fact that her and Draco Malfoy had been, and still were, together; was a secret she had kept from everyone. Even Harry and Ron. And, as far as she knew - and she liked to think she knew a lot - Draco hadn't told anyone either. If Lucius Malfoy even _suspected_ his son was in love with a mudblood then, well, who even knew? It didn't bare thinking about.

One person did know of course, Theodore Nott. Not intentionally that is. It wasn't like Draco couldn't keep his mouth shut or anything it was more like neither of them could keep their hands to themselves in the library late one night and he had stumbled upon them. They were lucky it was him. So very lucky.

"Well well well... what do we have here" He had smirked into the dimly lit and otherwise empty room.

Draco and Hermione had been caught so off guard that they didn't even have time to right themselves. Hermione was stood there, her skirt hitched so high that her knickers were showing, Draco's hand resting on her thigh and her shirt opened enough to reveal the black lace bra she wore underneath. She silently thanked the gods that they hadn't been caught in an even _worse_ position because, let's face it, it's not like they hadn't had sex in the library when they thought they were alone before.

"Umm…" Hermione had began as she searched desperately for some sort of excuse. Not that there was one. That was something she was still trying to come up with months later. It had been in the middle of sixth year when Theo had found them leaning up against a shelf of old and dusty books that Hermione knew for sure nobody read anymore.

Theo raised a perfectly shaped brow at the blustering witch in his friend's arms and watched as, in the faint light, her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. As he moved his gaze to Draco's hand or maybe he was looking at her bare thighs Hermione really couldn't tell, Theo looked at his friend and raised that same eyebrow back at him, awaiting an explanation.

Draco didn't splutter like Hermione had. Instead he removed his hand, and begrudgingly so, from his girlfriends perfect thighs where his fingers had been playing with the frills on her knickers and pulled her skirt down, then stood in front of her so the view to her chest was blocked.

Theo laughed. "I've already seen them now mate." He had said with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, well, I'd really rather you didn't stare at my girlfriend's breasts" Draco had retorted. There had been no way out of the situation but he could try other tactics he realised. So, instead of trying to deny they had been doing anything - because even a fool wouldn't have believed that - Draco had went on the offensive. He glared daggers at his best friend who was like a brother to him and stood protectively in front of Hermione so as to shield her from view and whatever else may happen. The Dark Lord had risen again and this was all the incentive Theo needed to go back and have Draco taken down a peg or ten. It would certainly help the Nott image and Draco could only gag at the thought of just how _happy_ Rowley Nott would be with the information. His only son and heir would be brought up for presentation earlier than expected and Theo would have no choice but to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Brothers in arms, his father had always called it when they were growing up.

Just as Draco thought this, it seemed that Theo was also thinking the same. Thankfully for Draco and Hermione, being a Death Eater was never something Theo had wanted. He had shied away from anything dark all of his life, his mother had helped of course. Always so insistent that her son was pure. Though Robyn Nott's version of pure clearly differed from that of her husband and his friends'. Theo was raised thinking that pure meant something different, meant innocence, angelic, honest, untainted. Pure meant untainted and if there was one thing his father was, it was tainted. Theo had grown up to associate pure to be the exact opposite of his father and his 'brothers in arms'. He had cringed away from anything remotely dark. When his mother had passed away he carried on with those thoughts, deciding if there was one way he could honour her it would be in that. He steered clear of any and all confrontations and when he started Hogwarts he tried to keep mostly to himself except for when Draco was too tired of Crabbe and Goyle and wouldn't allow him to hide in peace. Oh he was drafted up to war no doubt, raised to it, no son of a Death Eater could get away for very long and Theo's father was rather excited to give his son up, thinking it would bring more vehemence to his family name and their cause.

"Girlfriend?" Theo had asked as his eyes widened. He had known Draco was seeing someone, he'd been acting too strange for too long so decided to follow him and had been pretty shocked to find out who his companion was. Nevertheless, he hadn't thought they were actually an _item._ A quick kiss here and a fuck there, yes but a relationship? Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger _together?_ The Slytherin Prince and Gryffindor Princess, the pureblood who had deemed himself worthier than any other was in a relationship with the most famous mudblood. _Harry Potter's mudblood?_ No. He never would have thought it.

As he saw Draco's fists clench Theo had sighed, this was real, he realised. "Easy there mate, just shocked that's all. I'll keep your dirty little secret" He said with a laugh as he realised the double entendre he hadn't meant.

"Theo…" Draco had started, his face schooled into that hard mask he so often wore those days.

"It's fine, brothers first, right?" Theo joked as he repeated the words from a game they had played as boys.

"This...it's too serious...I can't...I'll have to…" Draco sighed as his body sagged and his wand hand raised higher.

Hermione had known what he meant, they had spent so much time together in the past year that she was sure she knew him better than Harry and Ron, better than himself. Better than herself.

"There has to be another way" Hermione whispered from behind Draco.

Both men had turned to stare at her, Draco surprised she had known what he was thinking and Theo confused.

"I have to Love, we can't-"

"Draco" Hermione started as she put her hands on the side of his face "You can not and will not _Obliviate_ your best friend for us!" She said sternly and, if her hands were not already occupied they would have been on her hips mimicking Molly Weasley.

"For _you_ " Draco corrected her. "I'm doing this for you. I need to keep you safe, Love."

Hermione huffed. It was a conversation they had had over and over at this point. "I can keep myself safe, we both know that."

The pair had stood there arguing for the next few minutes, Hermione's school shirt still unbuttoned as Theo watched them in awe. They really were a couple he had thought to himself and, before he could stop himself he interrupted the squabbling pair.

"If I may?" He asked them before they both stopped talking as if they had just remembered they were not alone and turned to face him, eyes wide and twin looks of annoyance flashing across their faces.

"What?" They called in unison.

"I'd really rather keep my memories and I'll likely just figure it out again anyway" He began "but, what about the Unbreakable Vow?" He finished before Draco could object to not Obliviating him.

"A... _what?"_ Hermione's face had paled. She knew what it was of course but it was magic that should never be taken lightly and Draco seemed to agree.

"No way" Draco almost shouted out.

"It's...not the _best_ idea but...it's not the worst either" Hermione whispered to him and Draco huffed again.

Huffed because he knew, without Obliviating his best friend it was the only option to secure Hermione's safety. He agreed in the end and, after much arguing with Hermione who demanded she should be the one to make the vow; Draco stood with Theo and held the hand of his best friend in the world as he vowed to always protect Hermione, always look out for her and never, _ever_ , under any circumstances tell anyone about their relationship unless it was already public knowledge. Theo made the vow without batting an eyelash and Hermione watched over the pair with tears in her eyes wondering what would have happened had anyone else walked in on them.

And now the war was over, the good side had won and all the Death Eaters had been carted off to Azkaban. Draco included. Thankfully, Theo hadn't been due to get the mark until that summer and so had missed out on the mouth watering meals they served up there. Hermione and Theo had grown close during what little time that had left of that sixth year and they struck up a friendship and bond that would be hard to break. After all, he did vow to always protect her, might as well get to know the witch he was supposed to protect.

It was June now and Draco was still not released. Hermione met with Theo for coffee and sat pulling apart a muffin without eating it. They had had to go into the muggle world of course. Can't show your face in the wizarding world with a Death Eater's son, she thought bitterly. Though, in all honesty, she was glad of the break of reporters everywhere she went. The muggle world was much more peaceful in that sense. Though she never could keep her wand holstered and had it up her sleeve the whole time - involuntary reflexes left over from the war. SOmething that never truly left her.

"He'll be out soon" Theo promised her as he took a sip of the caramel latte she had ordered for him.

"We don't know that Theo. It's been six weeks. Six weeks! He didn't even _do_ anything. He's innocent! Innocent and they carted him off to Azkaban like-like.." Hermione spluttered.

"My father?" Theo supplied.

Hermione gave a sad looking grimace at the words and sighed. "He doesn't deserve to be there Theo" She said and they both knew she wasn't talking about Nott Snr.

"Well, the pretrial is tomorrow, hopefully you'll have him back before you know it, they can't keep him there forever." Theo said as he tried to console her.

"I think I'm going to tell Harry" Hermione whispered so low Theo barely heard it.

"I can only imagine how that conversation will go. Weasley too?" He asked.

"I guess so, if Draco...I don't think I can trust myself to...best he finds out from me. Not - not like that" Hermione said anxiously.

Theo reached out a hand and placed it on top of hers "It will be okay" he whispered. "I'll be there. Unbreakable Vow and all" He grinned. "But, oh how I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you do tell Weasley" He joked and they both laughed.

Hermione barely slept that night though, in fairness it wasn't like she wasn't used it. She barely ever slept these days, too worried about Draco to relax.

Since the war had ended she had moved into Grimmauld Place with Harry, her parents' minds had been altered far too much to bring them back and they no longer knew her as their daughter so she had had nowhere else to go.

Ron floo'd to to meet them early that morning, grumbling about having to take Malfoy's side though even he knew he hadn't actually done anything wrong and had seen with his own eyes how reluctant Draco had been at handing them over. Anybody who had been at Malfoy Manor that day couldn't deny that Draco had saved their lives to the best of his ability.

They apparated to the Ministry in a room set up just for their use, Kingsley had been made interim minister and he had made allowances for the trio since they were getting far too much unwanted press. They arrived early and after submitting carefully selected memories they were free to go with promises that they would be in touch when a court date was set and everything had been looked at thoroughly. Hermione was a shaking mess by the time they were to go home and Harry had to side-along apparate her back, him and Ron sharing quizzical looks.

"What's up Hermione?" Harry asked once they got back and she fell to the floor in an unmoving heap while silent tears ran down her face.

How could she tell them? How could she tell these two boys, her brothers, that she had been dating their enemy for the past two years. That she was absolutely and irrevocably in love with Draco Malfoy and no matter what happened she knew, knew in her heart and soul that she always would be? They would never understand. They _couldn't_.

They had been together maybe six months when Slughorn invited her to his party and things were still pretty casual between them. Casual enough to suggest all they were were fuck buddies. Sure, they got on great, they were interested in the same things and yes his smile did make her heart skip a beat but he had never suggested they were anything more and Hermione, despite her growing feelings for the blonde man, never said anything either. Too scared of rejection. Some Gryffindor she was. So, when she couldn't take Draco to Slughorn's party and, after a petty argument with him she relented to Cormac's advances and decided to go with him. She threw on a pretty red dress and tried to be courageous. That was the night Draco had told her he loved her. He had followed her, of course he had. Gate crashed the party to make sure Cormac kept his hands to himself because everyone in the castle knew he couldn't.

When he had arrived and seen her in the red dress, the hem reaching just above her knees and the fabric falling over her hips and arse just _perfectly_ \- he nearly groaned at the sight. Instead he watched and waited. Waited to get her alone so nobody would see and, when he saw her step behind a tapestry he followed her and pulled her close, inhaling her scent and kissing her without waiting for invitation. Hermione barely put up a fight, it took her only a second to realise who had attacked her and when she did she just couldn't resist him. Petty argument or no.

"Why are you here?" Hermione breathed heavily when they pulled apart moments later.

"Keeping an eye on you. McLaggen, Mione, really?"

"What does it matter who I date if all we're doing is fucking around?" She hissed at him, her eyes taking on that look of wildfire she always got when she was _really_ angry.

Draco loved that look, she never looked more alive than she did when she looked that way. Of course, that look came with consequences. A fist to the face was one of them. "What if I don't want to just fuck around anymore?"

"You don't know what you want."

"You. I want you."

Hermione scoffed much too loudly and rolled her eyes at him "Sure, Draco Malfoy wants the mudblood" She bit out stiffly.

"Don't. Don't call yourself that."

"It's what I am, you said so yourself."

"I was wrong"

The silence between them was deafening.

"Why are you really here Draco?" Hermione asked quietly, part of her was terrified of his answer but she had to know.

Draco stared a spot behind her, looking anywhere but at her and said, without skipping a beat, "I love you"

Hermione sniffled at the memory as she sat in a heap on the floor. "There's something I have to tell you both, something...you might hate me but...I don't...I can't..not anymore."

If Hermione were a betting witch she would have said Harry would have been the more accepting of the two but, with each of them dealing with their own post war grievances, she was never more shocked than she was that day. Harry blew up. He'd been dealing with a lot, blamed himself for all the war casualties and lived with the 'what if's' hanging over his head, apparently the news that she was seeing Draco Malfoy tipped him over the edge and her best friend actually lost it with her. He called her names she didn't even know he knew. Ron, the boy who hated Draco Malfoy more than anyone else she knew just accepted it like she had told him she wanted a sandwich for lunch. He shrugged his shoulders, asked a couple of questions, gave her a hug and said he hoped things worked out for her. She was left speechless. She packed her stuff up an hour later and, with nowhere else to go, floo'd to Nott Manor.

Theo took her in without hesitation or question, he gave her space to grieve her friendship and a comfortable room to live in and, when the owls started to arrive once Harry had tracked her down he would send them back. He had vowed to protect her and sometimes that meant even from her own friends.

The Ministry owled her three weeks after that day, the court date was set for the following week and all the Malfoy's would be tried at once. Neither of them knew if that was a good sign or not but they started sleeping less and drinking more as each night passed.

Finally the date came around and Hermione and Theo floo'd to the same room she had appeared in last time, they made their way down to the courtrooms as instructed. They were early, too anxious to wait at home any longer.

Ron arrived dragging Harry behind him, he flashed an apologetic smile her way as he tugged on the robes of the raven haired wizard and kept him as far away from Hermione as possible.

When the Malfoy's were brought in Hermione nearly collapsed in shock at how they each looked. Lucius didn't look much different, he still bore that resemblance of pureblood arsehole they had come to know and loathe and he spat venomous insults anywhere he could. It looked like he was expecting to be free of shackles once the day was over. Narcissa was pale and drawn, she had bags under her eyes and, in the Azkaban prison uniform was barely recognisable. Draco looked the worst and Hermione's feet almost buckled underneath her, had it not been for Theo holding her up she would have collapsed there and then. He had black and purple rings around his eyes, his skin was pale and sallow and he was thinner which was evident even under the far too big Azkaban uniform. His hair was hanging over his eyes and he clearly hadn't shaved since before the battle. His eyes looked dead when they met hers. Hermione sobbed and Theo held her tighter.

Lucius was sentenced to life in prison with ten yearly reviews to check on his behaviour. His wand was snapped. Nobody seemed surprised except for Lucius himself, not even his wife.

Narcissa was released to Malfoy Manor, under house arrest for the next year and with wand probation that meant she wasn't allowed to use magic for the next five years. Hermione sighed in relief that the Malfoy matriarch was free to go home, she deserved that much. The war would never have ended if it wasn't for her.

Unfortunately Draco wasn't as lucky. Despite the overwhelming evidence shared to the Wizengamot, the memories produced by Hermione, Harry, Ron, Snape a few others and himself; he was still found guilty of war crimes and sentenced to ten years imprisonment without the chance of parole. Upon the guilty verdict Hermione's legs finally gave way and she collapsed into Theo's arms, tears streaming down her face. If anyone noticed they never said anything, probably suspecting she was on another 'human rights' mission and left it at that. Ron didn't know what to do but he approached Hermione cautiously and hugged her, told her not to be a stranger and apologised for Harry who seemed like he'd just received the best birthday present in the world. Just before Ron left to get Harry home before a scene started he turned to Theo and said "Take care of her mate". Hermione felt Theo nod his head just once as Ron walked away.

It took months for Theo to get Hermione to leave the house again after that fateful day in July and when she did she was a witch with a plan. She went for a job in the Ministry, and war hero status and all, was given it on the spot. She didn't even care that she had been given special treatment because of who she was. In fact, she played on it, used it to her advantage. If she was going to succeed in her mission then she needed all the leverage she could get. Theo helped where he could of course and, that December Hermione took the position as Archive Assistant in the Wizengamot. It gave her ample time and resources to trawl through old laws looking for loopholes where she could. She was a witch with a plan and that plan was to get Draco Malfoy out of a prison he didn't belong in in the first place.

Being an archive assistant was boring work, truly. It was mind numbingly dreadful. At least once a week Hermione went home with a raging migraine from the stress. The trouble is old laws had loopholes and the loopholes had loopholes and the laws went back so far into existence it was untrue. One day she found a law that dated in the ninth century and it was still in place and, if that wasn't enough, it was still used, regularly. It was utterly barbaric and so far behind the times it was untrue. In the hours that she was actually _supposed_ to work Hermione tried to clean up the older laws to their more modern, twenty-first century times and, on a few occasions she was able to slip something into paperwork here and there that actually got passed in the courtrooms. Though they were barely anything to write home about and, even with these small victories she hated her job. She spent every hour she could spare trying to find something that would free Draco but nothing seemed to help. No matter how far back she went in the laws it seemed the Wizengamot and known exactly who they were putting away and had carefully constructed their sentences with laws that there was no going back from. She didn't give up though, even if he was released a year, a month or a week early it would be worth it and so she carried on. Day in day out, boring herself stupid and learning far too much about laws and customs than the average witch needed to know.

Hermione had tried to visit Draco the second she was able to but upon arrival at Azkaban had found out he hadn't authorised visitation for anyone, not even his own mother. Thinking it was an oversight she owled him as soon as she got home and when a raven arrived back two months later telling her it wasn't an oversight and that he didn't want to see her ever again, that he didn't love her anymore and probably never had to begin with; That she should move on and be happy with someone who deserved her; she crumpled into a ball and sobbed herself to sleep. Days later, the initial heartbroken reaction and the pains that came with it were slowly subsiding and Hermione saw the letter for what it was; lies. But she had vowed to stay true to him, had vowed to wait for as long as it took and there was no way, on heaven or earth, that Hermione Granger would go back on her word.

It had been the night before Dumbledore's death they had last spent together, the night she had vowed to wait for him as long as it took. She knew he had the mark, there was no way he could hide it from a witch like her, she was far too curious by nature to let a secret like that slide. She comforted and consoled him. She didn't know Voldemort's plan for him however but she had guessed that it was bad when Draco wouldn't tell her even the smallest detail. She didn't push, too scared she might push him away.

The night before that fateful night they had met in the Room of Requirement, somewhere they would meet up whenever they both managed to sneak out and would spend the hours making love and sleeping in one another's arms, relieving each other of the burden of their nightmares.

"I love you" Draco whispered into her skin as they lay, legs tangled around each other and kissing what skin they could reach in their post coital bliss.

"Mmmm" Hermione replied, still so far out of it that her mouth couldn't fully form words yet.

Draco sat up then, and, looking down at Hermione then back at the brand that marked his arm his face twisted into a grimace.

"It's okay" Hermione whispered when she saw it.

"You deserve better" He sighed resignedly.

"I deserve to have the man I love" she said, her tone just _daring_ him to argue back.

Draco bit his tongue. "Hermione..." He said softly though his voice was laced with anxiety.

"Mmm?" She asked absentmindedly as she burrowed closer to him.

"When this war is over...I mean...maybe it's too soon...but I don't know what's going to happen to me and you're the only thing good I have and I don't want to throw that away but if you win...if Potter finally ends this mess-"

"When" Hermione corrected.

"When" Draco had agreed. " _When_ Potter ends this mess, they'll send me to Azkaban, providing I'm still alive of course" he said bitterly "and, I don't know how long I'll be there. I'm trying so hard to be _good_ but there's only so much I can do with this brand on my arm and a madman breathing down my neck" Draco sighed.

Hermione cupped Draco's jaw with one hand and looked into those silver-grey eyes "I'll wait" she whispered.

"I can't ask that of you" he whispered back, not daring to look away.

"You're not asking, I'm telling"

"And when I'm free? When it's all over? What then?"

"Whatever you want Love" Hermione replied as she watched a tear run down Draco's cheek.

"I want you. For the rest of forever. Mine."

"Then I'll wait. I'll wait a thousand years if I have to." Hermione said as she wiped that tear away and one of her own escaped.

She wrote to him weekly and, every two months without fail an angry looking raven would arrive at Nott Manor with eight unopened letters. It didn't stop her. She knew he was opening Theo's mail however, and it hurt to know he was refusing any form of contact with her but she never gave up on him. She had promised she would wait a thousand years if she had to, ten was nothing in comparison, surely?

It turns out ten years was a lot longer than Hermione thought. The first two were full of raw grief and, though that feeling never left her, she eventually was able to navigate her daily life easier and save the tears and tantrums for when she got home and only had Theo for an audience. The third year she found a coping mechanism; firewhiskey. The sixth, seventh and eighth she threw herself further into her work. She was promoted to head of her department in the fifth year but never once did she give up. She hated her job more and more as the days went on but, knowing there was nothing else to do but try she never gave up hope. She still sent the letters.

As the eighth year came to an end and the ninth anniversary of the final battle crept upon them, Hermione started to panic. She wasn't sure why, it was what she wanted; time to fly by, but the more it did the scarier it got. Especially considering Draco still hadn't opened a single letter from her in all the years he had been gone.

She was still close to Ron, maybe not as close as they used to be once upon a time but close enough. Four years after the battle he had gone on a date with Pansy Parkinson and, one thing led to another and before she knew it the pair were married with a daughter and so her friend was off living his life, being all grown up and manly. He had completed his three years of Auror training, signing up with Harry as soon as the ministry allowed and the pair had become a huge success in the DMLE.

Harry on the other hand had remained bitter, single and depressed for a long time until a chance meeting with Daphne Greengrass completely turned his life around. Ginny had left him when she heard what he had done to Hermione (though never the why) and never once looked back and, from the way Ginny told her it wasn't like he even her asked to. Daphne on the other hand seemed to bring the old Harry back and, seven years after the battle Hermione was inundated with letter after letter of apology. She didn't forgive him, not at first. It wasn't until Theo and Luna were stood in front of her, piles of letters in their hands and told her to look at her own life; look at Draco being locked away. They made her see life was too short. So eventually, in time, she learned to forgive him but she could never forget that when she needed her best friend the most, the man she considered her family; he had refused her all over a petty schoolboy rivalry. Theo and Luna had become an item around the sixth year and Hermione continued to lived at Nott Manor with them though the place was so big she barely even recognised the other occupants unless she wanted to. Luna's friendship had become sacred to Hermione and besides Theo, Harry and Ron she was the only other person to know of her history with Draco.

Having Luna to confide in was probably one of the better decisions Hermione had made in her life, her blonde friend had quickly become Hermione's cheerleader and would sit up night after night pouring through ancient tomes, deciphering runes and other ancient languages trying to find the smallest loophole they could. Luna would sit curled up next to Theo and the three of them would drink glass after glass of expensive firewhiskey well into the night.

Theo and Luna married after a whirlwind romance though Hermione could tell they were destined and, she reasoned, if anyone, anyone at all deserved a chance at a happy ever after, it was Theodore Nott. After barely a month of dating where Luna didn't leave Nott Manor once and Hermione heard and saw far more than she wished; the pair were married in the gardens of his ancestral home with just Hermione and her father as witnesses. It turned out Luna was a very fertile woman and not two weeks later the witch announced she was pregnant. The newly wedded Nott's named Hermione godmother to their twin boys Castor and Pollux born in the June of the seventh year.

Ginny ended up dating quidditch player after quidditch player before finally falling for the charms of Blaise Zabini and the pair lived together and pretended they were only doing so because it was cheaper and more convenient and not because of something so ridiculous as love. Everyone else knew the truth of course. Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini were probably as besotted with one another as Theo and Luna were.

It seemed that life and love moved on.

Hermione couldn't decide if the ninth year was going too fast or too slow, as each day passed she grew more and more anxious. She had promised Draco she would wait and she had. Never once had it even entered her mind to move on. She couldn't. There was no way. She belonged to him and there was no way to be happy, truly happy, without him.

Half way through the ninth year the panic attacks started when she came across the one letter he had sent her since he was sentenced. The one where he said he didn't love her and probably never had. She started to wonder after that if she had been a fool or not but Luna set her right and though she would never ask Theo about what he and Draco wrote about she did wonder if he ever mentioned her. If he ever asked after her or if he really did fall out of love with her. Her gut told her he was pushing her away, telling himself it was better all round if she moved on but still something niggled the back of her mind that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.

On the ninth year, tenth month and twenty-ninth day she handed in her resignation, she hated her job with absolution. It bored her, it drained her and it made her sick. She drank more to numb the migraines and she just wanted free of it all. In all of her time working for the Ministry she had never found a single thing; nothing that would accomplish getting Draco released even a minute earlier than his sentence allowed. The Wizengamot had been extremely thorough and the Malfoy's had been made an example of.

That month passed by in a hazy blur, Hermione's boss had practically begged her to stay but she had no inclination to do so and nothing could change her mind. They advertised the position and she readied herself for being jobless. Luckily for her it wasn't like Theo had taken any form of rent off her over the past ten years and every small thing in the house had been paid for out of the Nott vaults, he wouldn't even hear of her paying for Firewhiskey; said it was some duty of purebood customs or other such trite that she knew to be wholly false since she knew every law and custom there had ever been. She let him have it though. He took the vow seriously, too seriously sometimes. And if he thought not letting her pay her way was another way for him to look after her then who was she to complain? She had become closer to Theo than she ever had to either Harry or Ron and counted him, Luna and their twins as the only family she had left. So she let them look after her while her vault grew with each passing month.

Due to war contributions and efforts Hermione had been awarded an Order of Merlin; Second Class and a substantial sum alongside it that meant she wouldn't have to work again if she was careful, add that to a sizeable salary for the past nine and a half years with no outgoings and she wasn't exactly poor, in fact she was rather well off. Not as well off as her pseudo-brother of course but there was more than enough in her vault to live comfortably.

Hermione received a reminder from the Wizengamot the week before Draco's release, letting her know of the time and date it was to happen. A courtesy since she had given evidence at his trial. She imagined Harry and Ron got them too but never got a chance to ask. The day before the tenth year anniversary, the first day of May in 2008; Hermione packed up her office and left the Ministry for the last time as an employee, vowing never to take another government job again.

The twins, now nearly three years old, had been sent to stay with Luna's father by the time she arrived home, she wasn't sure if their absence was a relief or a burden. She imagined they would have taken up much of the night playing games and reading stories as they often did but now she was left with nothing but her thoughts.

When she got back to Nott Manor the three of them sat around a subdued dining table and pushed food around their plates in silence. After they had decided they had sat long enough to placate the Nott elves - all of whom were paid and treated as fairly as any human, at Theo's insistence and not Hermione's (though of course she would have insisted had she needed) - they each emptied the contents of their plates and retired for the night.

Nobody spoke the next morning; it was a sombre affair and Hermione had to take three calming draughts before they even got to the courtrooms at twelve that afternoon. Lucius was due to have his first review and, in a move that had been too cleverly designed to not be political; father and son would be presented together. They met their friends there, Ron and a very pregnant Pansy arrived with Harry and Daphne, Ginny and Blaise followed while Narcissa stood holding Andromeda's hand.

Hermione stood between Theo and Luna, clutching them both tightly, her grip surely hurting them though neither complained.

Father and son were presented wearing near identical prison uniforms, only their identification numbers set them apart. Lucius didn't look all that different since the last time she had seen him Hermione thought to herself before her eyes rolled over to Draco. Her heart stopped. It had been just two months shy of ten years since she last saw him and yet, despite the prison uniform, despite the long hair that made him look like his father, the still sallow skin and dead eyes, despite the fact he looked like he hadn't eaten in the whole ten years - if she ever needed verification that she still loved him - still loved the man that was sat in a chair made out of Devils Snare - she had it. Her heart almost broke at the sight; she stifled a sob.

Draco refused to look at her.

Lucius' review came first. Politics. And in a move that shocked nobody he was denied freedom. Again.

Finally it was Draco's turn and, after his prison record was revealed to be clean, after the Wizengamot finally agreed he had served his time they let him go, back into civilisation. Just like that. Ten years later.

Hermione didn't wait for them to lift the spell on the chair. She kicked off her shoes and ran down the into the centre of the courtroom and, just as she got there he stood, his eyes lifting to meet hers, the room quietened but they didn't even notice.

Draco stood and stared at Hermione, twin tear tracks marking her face.

 _'Time stands still_

 _beauty in all she is_

 _I will be brave_

 _I will not let anything_

 _Take away_

 _What's standing in front of me_

 _Every breath,_

 _Every hour has come to this'_ Draco thought as he took a step closer to her.

"I have died everyday waiting for you" Hermione said shakily.

"Darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years and I'll love you for a thousand more" Draco managed to choke out before she threw her arms around him and they collapsed into one another sobbing in relief.

Draco kissed Hermione's forehead and she melted into the touch just as she had all those years prior then, in a move that shocked everyone, Draco lowered himself to the floor, refusing to let go of Hermione's hand and said "Eleven years ago you promised me that if we came out of this alive, if we survived you would be mine, forever. Hermione, will you marry me?"

The tears doubled and Hermione just about managed to say "Yes" before he was back in her arms again and they clung to each other not caring for once about the press, about the hateful slurs or the whispered rumours.

The gathering crowd gasped, Narcissa sobbed, their friends cheered - even those who didn't know what was going on, reporters snapped pictures and Lucius shouted mudblood slurs before Theo and Ron simultaneously shut him up with a _muffliato_ charm.

All was well. Sort of.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	8. Magical Orphans (Number 8)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Magical Orphans (Number 8)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: Romance  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: None**

* * *

 **Magical Orphans**

* * *

Hermione looked out of the big windows in her living room to the early dawn grey sky. The clock beside her chimed 6 o'clock, and Crookshanks was curled into the nook behind her legs, soft purrs issuing from him. His soft fur tickled her calf, while his body pushed heat onto her feet, keeping her warm on this cold fall morning.

The parchment that lay before her had grown in length in the hour since she had woken up. She was sure to overwhelm Susan Bones during their meeting today, but she was trying to be as prepared as possible. Leaning forward, she shuffled all the papers together, including her application and the letters of recommendation from Harry, Ron, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. She knew that her choice of personal recommendations were a bit of favoritism, because who could deny Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Hagrid, was the one who had told her about Phoenix Adoption Agency, after he had adopted his beautiful little girl Amélie, with his now wife Madame Maxime, though she insisted on being called Olympe.

"Crooks," she whispered quietly, rubbing her half-kneazle between the ears. "Let's get up for some breakfast." Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face into his soft fur, pulling him tight to her.

Clad in thick wool socks, she padded over to the little kitchen across the room from her couch. Setting Crookshanks down, she pushed the button on her muggle coffee maker, before grabbing the kibble for Crooks and feeding him. Hermione rarely ate breakfast, but with the nerves already rolling through her, she had to eat something. Opening the fridge, she sighed when nothing looked in the least bit appetizing. Closing the door, she opened the cupboards and again found herself disappointed. Opening the fridge again, she chuckled remembering what her mother used to say, "No matter how many times you open that door, food will not magically appear." She had been in her second year, when she thought that one day she would learn a spell to make food appear. She had been thoroughly disappointed to learn that would break a law of magic, and was impossible.

"Well, Crooks, I'll just have to grab a muffin on my way in," Hermione sighed, leaving the kitchen to get dressed.

 **XXXXX**

Three hours later, Hermione found herself outside of Phoenix Adoption Agency. Double-checking the address listed above the letterbox, she walked into the unassuming building on a busy muggle London street. She was surprised at the room she walked into; it was a comfortable sitting room with cream-colored sofas and white walls, which were decorated with large pictures of happy families. At the opposite end of the room, there was a receptionist, an older lady in her fifties or sixties, who looked up as Hermione walked in, with a big smile on her face.

"Welcome to Phoenix Adoption Agency, you must be Miss Granger." Her voice was warm and comforting, as she stood up, extending her hand to Hermione who hurried over.

"Hello! Sorry I'm so early."

"Mrs. Macmillian said you would be early, she's just finishing up some paperwork, but she'll be out in a jiffy."

"Mrs. Macmillian, I thought I was meeting with Susan Bones?" Hermione asked fretfully.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Susan was married last month to Ernie Macmillian. He was at school with her, so you must know him."

Hermione smiled, happy for the pair, "Yes, of course. That's wonderful!"

The older woman nodded, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Oh, sure. Could I have some tea with honey, please." Hermione watched the women open the door behind her and walk off. Looking on the desk, she saw a name sign that read, "Elizabeth Burns".

Before Mrs. Burns came back with the tea, the door to the right opened, and out walked Hermione's old classmate Susan Bones.

"Hermione! How wonderful to see you. What's it been, nine years?" Susan walked over, and gave Hermione a quick hug.

"Yes, I think the last time I saw you might have been the Battle. Wow, has it been that long?" They both were lost in thought for a few seconds when Mrs. Burns came back in the tea.

"Thank you." Hermione smiled as she took the tea.

"Well Hermione, let's go answer all of your questions," Susan replied with a wink, before directing Hermione to her office.

 **XXXXX**

1 hour later, Hermione had run over her appointment time with Susan, but she still had a foot of parchment of questions.

"Well, Hermione, it seems we'll need to make another appointment, I'm sorry we couldn't get to all of them now." Susan smiled while standing up. Hermione gathered up her parchment and tucked it into her bag, before following Susan out the door.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, I didn't know you were coming today." Hermione heard Susan's surprised voice ahead of her.

"Just to drop off the paperwork my mother has on the manor for you." Draco Malfoy's clear voice rang out, echoing off the walls of the small sitting room. Hermione finally came into the room, standing just off to the side of Susan.

"Oh yes, of course," Mrs. Macmillian replied, accepting the paperwork Draco had in his hands. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm sure you remember Miss Granger from school."

Hermione made to offer a nod in his direction, but was surprised when he stepped forward offering his hand. He met her eyes, his gaze warm and questioning, grabbing his hand, she was shocked to find it warm and calloused. Glancing down she saw his hands covered in small scars, some even snaking up beyond the sleeve of his dark grey button-up shirt. Looking away from the scars, she looked back up into his light grey eyes.

"Miss Granger." He smiled, nodding slightly, before letting go of her hand.

"Mr. Malfoy." Hermione offered a tight smile.

"Mr. Malfoy maybe you could do me a favor if you're not too busy," Susan began.

Draco, who didn't take his eyes off of Hermione's brown ones, answered, "Anything to help, Mrs. Macmillian."

"Well, Miss Granger here has just turned in her paperwork, but Hermione still has a number of questions to ask, and as you're near the end of the process, I wondered if you could maybe answer some of her questions," Susan offered. Draco and Hermione were oblivious to the glint of mischief in her blue eyes.

"I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is too busy-" Hermione began before she was cut off by Draco's authoritative voice.

"It's no problem at all. Miss Granger would you like to grab lunch?" He was smiling, his eyes crinkling and dancing with mirth.

"Oh, well, if you don't mind," Hermione's confusion evident in her voice.

"I know a wonderful Italian place just around the corner," Draco added before smiling at Susan. "Mrs. Macmillian, Mrs. Burns, it's been a pleasure as always. Please owl if you have any questions about that paperwork. I'll see you next week, Tuesday, correct?" He nodded to each woman before quirking an eyebrow at Susan.

"Yes, I'll see on Tuesday, and if anything changes I'll send you an owl." Susan smiled before walking back to her office.

 **XXXXX**

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself seated in the corner of a small Italian restaurant across from Draco Malfoy. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought this would happen, but here she was. It had been years since she had laid eyes on her old schoolmate, and he had much improved in those years. His once awkward, pointed face had shifted into chiseled jaw, deep grey eyes and less upturned nose. His skin was more tanned, and his hair cut shorter, no longer slicked back.

She would never admit that she read every article in Witch Weekly that featured him, and he made the cover almost as often as the Golden Trio did these days. Harry and Ginny had of course married, but the tabloid liked to throw in affairs and cheating scandals when they were low on stories on Hermione's own dating history. There had been a few nasty features that had said that Harry was demanding Ginny quit playing Quidditch, but those had been forgotten when Ginny had announced she was pregnant with James Sirius, and a year later with Albus Severus. Ron hadn't made the cover as much since he had married an American Witch named Emily Roberts. The last big feature had been the coverage of their beautiful little girl, Lauren.

Hermione was the last member of the Golden Trio without a "family" as Witch Weekly loved to write. She hadn't gone on a real date in years, the last one being a disastrous date, set up by Fleur. Since then, she had spent most of her free time enjoying her friends and "nephews and niece" as her friendship with Harry and Ron was better than ever. She was, however; a little worried about what they would make of the lunch meeting she was having right now.

Draco sat quietly watching as Hermione bit the corner of her lip, something he was longing to do himself, and fantasized about since fourth year. "So Miss Granger, Mrs. Macmillian says you're beginning the process of adoption and you have some questions, I'm happy to help." He smirked, hoping she would open up and talk to him.

"Yes, I do have quite a few more, if you don't mind," she said, letting go of her lip, and reaching into her bag. She produced a scroll of some length, which caused Draco's eyes to widen.

Watching as she grabbed a Quick-Quotes Quill from her bag, his eyebrow shot up, "Funny you should have one of those. I remember hearing some rumors about a certain muggle-born witch that was quite threatening to Rita Skeeter." Draco watched amused as she blushed deeply before looking up at him.

"Yes, well it frees up my hands and allows me to take notes quicker. Her wretched quill caused a lot of problems, mine just takes notes," She replied stubbornly.

"I meant no offense, Miss Granger," he teased.

"Why do you keep calling me that," Hermione inquired.

"Calling you what?"

"Miss Granger, you only ever called me Granger," she stated.

Sighing, Draco wiped his hands on his pants just as the waiter showed up with their drinks. After he walked away Draco met her eyes, "I think I should clear the air. In no way can it make up for the past, but I am sorry for what I said and did to you in school, and for what my family did." Sighing, he continued, "After the War, as part of my conditions, I was sent to reeducation, as well as a healer, who used the techniques of what Muggles call a therapist. I've worked through a lot of issues, and I've tried to make amends with as many people as possible. I call you Miss Granger, because that is your name. If you would prefer I can call you Granger or Hermione," he responded, his voice low, but calm.

Hermione stared openly at her old classmate, her head falling to the side a bit as she studied him. He looked like the same person, much more grown up, but he acted completely different. Therapy, she thought to herself. That would certainly explain it. She took a sip of her water before she smiled, "You can call me Hermione. Miss Granger makes me sound old."

Draco smiled again, his eyes crinkling. "Hermione," he murmured testing out her name. "You had some questions."

 **XXXXX**

40 minutes later, Draco and Hermione had gone through her long scroll of questions and their food had just arrived. Draco had ordered Chicken Scampi and Hermione had ordered her favorite, fettuccine alfredo. Hermione eyed the wizard before her; he had been incredibly polite and extremely helpful throughout her questions. "So, Draco, how is it you know so much about the adoption process?"

Draco took a sip of the white wine that had replaced his water, mid-way through the meal. "I'm at the end of an adoption process of my own, I bring home my daughter next week." Hermione watched as the once calm expression had changed to joy, he was beaming at the mention of his daughter.

Surprised, Hermione whispered, "I had no idea." Draco continued smiling at her, while her brain moved fast, "Wait, are you married?" The question burst from her lips before she could stop it. Pausing, she watched his face fall a bit, "Oh, I'm sorry, that was rather rude of me. You don't have to answer."

Draco took another sip from his wine, before looking her in the eyes. He knew he didn't need to tell her the truth, but he didn't really have anyone in his life to talk to, except his mother, "If truth be told, I haven't dated anyone since Hogwarts. I've worked a lot, and concentrated on repairing my family's name. I didn't have any prospects, so nine months ago, I decided that I wasn't going to wait anymore."

Hermione was even more shocked than ever. She didn't know if she believed that Draco Malfoy, self-proclaimed playboy of Hogwarts hadn't dated, and wasn't dating. What he had described, however; sounded much like her own situation. She sighed, "I understand. With Harry and Ron busy having kids, and with a line-up of horrible dates, I thought 'What am I waiting for?'"

Draco laughed, "I think at some point you just wake up and decide the only thing you're waiting on is yourself. Waiting on you to decide you're ready."

Hermione nodded. "So tell me about your daughter." She smiled, watching as his eyes lit up again and he beamed.

"Ariana, is nine. I've met her a handful of times. She loves princess stories, well stories of any kind, which I found out her mother, a muggle born, used to tell her all about. She's much in love with someone called Cindyella and some mermaid, though how a mereperson could ever be a princess is beyond me." Hermione laughed, while Draco continued, "Mother says I should get her involved in horses or some such thing, but I think for a while I just want it to be me and her, getting to know one another." Draco's eyes had drifted away from her's as he looked far off, imagining his little girl. "Here I have a picture of her, she's beautiful."

Draco fished out his wallet, and produced a moving picture of a young girl, with curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, wearing a beautiful pink dress, and swinging on a swing set. Draco could be seen behind her pushing her and laughing at the little girl's screeching. His eyes twinkled before he handed it over to Hermione. She smiled and chuckled watching the girl leap out of the swing, but fall gracefully to the ground. Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away as the picture-Draco moved from around the swing and picked her up, swinging her around in his arms before hugging her tightly. "You're a natural," Hermione murmured.

"She's incredible. It was like she was born to be my daughter."

"What happened to her parents?"

Draco's eyes turned dark, and the look on his face became one of disgust and anger. He swallowed, "Her father, was a violent drunk, and attacked her mother one night, thinking she was cheating on him. He killed her mother, while Ariana was asleep in the next room." He paused, collecting himself, "He's serving a life sentence in Azkaban." Draco's hands were in fists on the table, clenching them steadily.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say, she knew about Domestic Violence issues in the Muggle world, but didn't realize that they occurred in the Magical world as well. She reached forward, and laying her hand gently over his fist, squeezed. "I'm sorry for Ariana, and I'm sorry that you'll have to answer those questions one day." She offered a soft smile, when Draco looked from their hands to her eyes.

Draco stared into Hermione's brown eyes, noticing for the first time the flecks of gold that caused them to brighten when she looked at him. Her kind gesture of squeezing his hand was not something he was used to. He had become convinced years ago, that he put off an aura of "Do Not Touch Me", which was in complete contradiction to how he felt most of the time. He was fortunate that Ariana did not seem to mind hugging him, and his mother had grown much more affectionate since his father had passed.

Hermione pulled her hand back, and folding up her napkin placed it over her plate. "Well I should be off, I have the whole day to myself and some cleaning to do."

Draco took the last sip of his wine and smiled, "Actually could I ask you a favor?" Draco wasn't sure why he was asking her, he could do it on his own, but for some odd reason he wanted her to come along and help.

"Oh, well of course, you've been so incredibly helpful." She smiled cheerfully.

"I was heading out to do some shopping for Ariana's room, getting it ready for her to come home, and I would love your advice on some of the things I've picked out," Draco explained, while pulling out some Muggle money, and paying the bill.

"Oh!" Hermione was surprised, it seemed like something that friends would do, or that his mother would help him with. "I would be happy to help, though I'm not sure how much good I would be, I really only cared about having a lot of books as a child."

"I'll make a deal with you, help me pick out things for her bedroom, then you can drag me to a bookshop and I'll buy anything you think a nine year old would like." He marveled at how her eyes lit up at the idea.

"You're serious? Any book?" Her voice was giddy with excitement. This sounded like early Christmas.

"Yes, let's head off and you can have any book." Draco stood, and before she could slide out of the booth, he offered her his arm. She stared at it a moment, before wrapping her arm around his, and they walked out.

 **XXXXX**

4 hours later, Hermione was still walking arm and arm with Draco, and finding it oddly comforting. They had picked out all of Ariana's furniture, beautiful pieces painted white, and a bedspread of buttercup yellow. Hermione had helped Draco pick out silly little additions that he didn't seem to think were necessary. She found a hedgehog piggy bank, to which Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't say a word, and decorative pillows each shaped with a different animal. She convinced him to buy her a large bookshelf that matched her furniture and a beautiful armchair, which was being reupholstered in a soft cream color.

Now they were braving the fall wind, arm in arm, walking towards a small muggle bookshop. Hermione had been surprised to find that all of the places they had visited had been Muggle and they had stayed away from Wizarding London, entirely. They had bantered on about old classmates, Draco not once making a rude comment about Harry or Ron, or even her stories of Neville. Draco had less to say then she did, and mostly just listened, offering an occasional question or comment. She had been surprised to learn on their first stop that Draco was not living at Malfoy Manor any longer, and neither was his mother; she had moved to a small home in North West England. Draco however owned a home outside of Newcastle, not far from Hermione's own home in Northumberland.

Hermione had also learned that Draco hadn't been dropping off papers for his adoption this morning at the agency, but paperwork on Malfoy Manor, as it was being turned into a group home for Phoenix Adoption Agency.

Turning the corner, they saw the bookshop a few storefronts ahead of them, but the wind picked up, and Hermione leaned in closer to Draco, trying to keep warm. Heads bent, they continued and Draco held open the door for Hermione when they arrived.

"Hello, Welcome to Audrey Book Company, I'm Hugh, how can I help you today," called an older gentleman from behind the counter.

"We're just here for some books," Hermione answered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

"Let me know if I can assist you." The shopkeeper smiled, before turning back to his paper.

Hermione looked around and spotting the children's section, lead Draco back, grabbing a basket along the way. Draco watched as she went up and down the aisles, throwing in books. She made sure to grab her favorites: _Charlotte's Web, Chronicles of Narnia, My Side of the Mountain, The Little Princess, The Wind in the Willows, Anne of Green Gables, Guess How Much I Love You, Mrs. Nelson is Missing, and The Secret Garden,_ among other titles that caught her eye. Heading over to the adult section she found the classics, _Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women,_ and _Lord of the Rings_ before handing the basket over to Draco, who stood there incredulously, while she beamed.

"That should be enough to get her going, now I could send you a list of some children's books from Flourish and Blotts," Hermione whispered, careful to mention just the bookstore and not what type of bookstore it was.

"Are you sure all of these will fit on her shelf," Draco inquired.

"I'm sure, that's why I made you get the big bookshelf," She teased, wrinkling her nose.

Draco couldn't help but smile back at her. He couldn't remember having such a good day.

"Thank you for all your help. Can I owl you?" He wasn't sure how to ask if they could continue talking and maybe spending time together.

Hermione couldn't help how pleased she was that he had asked. It had been a wonderful day, and she hated the idea of it just ending here. "Yes. That would be nice." She blushed, before moving forward towards the door.

Draco saw her move towards him, and instinctively reached out, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her close, delighting in the faint floral scent of her hair. Pulling back from her, she looked confused. Suddenly, he realized that she had been moving towards the door, not towards him. He looked down, away from her eyes that studied him. "I'm sorry, really, I am sorry," Draco mumbled before moving back a step.

Hermione tried to figure out what had just happened, when she noticed the embarrassment wash over him, "Draco, it's fine." Moving forward she hugged him back, and felt his body relax a little, before she pulled away.

"I look forward to your owl," she chimed before walking out of the shop.

 **XXXXX**

Three days later, Hermione found herself unrolling a tight scroll from a beautiful grey owl.

 _Hermione,_

 _All of the items we purchased have arrived. Many of the items, while still unnecessary will add to the room, but I've no idea how to arrange it. Would be pleased to have your assistance again. Feel free to floo to the address below anytime._

 _Yours, Draco_

Hermione pondered over the sentiment at the bottom of the note. Yes they had spent the last few days exchanging owls, and Draco had shared more information about adoption then she had even thought to ask. Hermione had kept up a running list of more books he needed to purchase. It had only been a few days but she found herself excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

She quickly wrote him back, explaining that she had to work until five, but could stop by after that and that she could bring some food for dinner. Smiling, she attached it to the owl, and set off for work.

 **XXXXX**

Hermione had just left her office at the Ministry. Walking towards the fires, she fished the rolled up scroll from her satchel. Reading the address back, she was about to walk forward to line up at the queue when she heard her name being called.

"'Mione!" Hermione instantly knew who was calling her, as Ron was the only one who ignored her annoyance with nicknames. Turning she watched her ginger-haired best friend walking towards her. A stack of folders bound in a leather belt under one arm, his dark purple Auror robes billowing out behind him.

"Ron!" She walked forward, quickly hugging him.

"Hey, I wanted to catch you before you left, Emily wanted to invite you for dinner tomorrow night. Harry and Gin are already coming, but I wanted it to be just us, none of the rest of my family." He gave her a knowing smile, one she understand and appreciated. Being the last single one was overwhelming in such a large group. The Weasley's still treated her like a member of the family, but Mrs. Weasley was constantly trying to push her to date. She and Ron had given it six months after the Battle before they both realized it was a lost cause. Everything at Hogwarts over the years and Harry, then the war had brought them close, but once all the dust settled they really didn't have much in common on a personal level. She hated Quidditch and loved books. Ron was the opposite, and neither of them should have to change to be happy. She loved their friendship. He was like her brother.

"Oh, that would be wonderful! What time?" Hermione inquired, excited to see everyone.

"Anytime after you're off work, Em said dinner would be ready about fifteen past seven," Ron added, his lips in a tight smile. "Well I best be off, Lauren has been teething lately and I try to give Em a break when I get home."

"Oh, ok!"

"You heading home?"

"No actually." The tiles on the floor suddenly fascinated her, as she felt the blush creeping up her face.

"Oh where are you off to?" In the years since becoming an Auror, Ron had become somewhat better at reading people's behavior, and he knew what Hermione looked like when she was trying to keep something to herself. "'Mione?"

Her voice barely a whisper, "Dinner at Draco's." She chanced a glance up at Ron, only to find his eyebrows shoot up and his eyes narrow.

"Did you say 'dinner at Draco's'? As in Draco Malfoy? The largest prat to ever leave Hogwarts," Ron asked incredulously.

Hermione felt her face grow even hotter, "Yes."

"Are you dating him?" Ron demanded.

Hermione suddenly came to her senses, there was no reason she should be ashamed of going to Draco's house. "Actually, Ronald, I'm not. He happens to be adopting a child, and we met at my meeting the other day. He asked for my advice in purchasing things for his daughter's room. They've just been delivered, so I'm going to help him sort it all out." Her voice grew louder the longer she talked.

Ron seemed to deflate before her very eyes. His freckles were suddenly lost in the blush on his own cheeks. "Oh." He paused, shuffling his feet. "So you're not dating him then?"

"No, we're having dinner while we set up Ariana's room," she explained.

"I guess I just don't understand why the wanker would even talk to you," Ron remarked.

"I was just as surprised when he offered to answer all my questions about adoption over lunch. He's not the same as he was in school. Quite different. He had to go through a lot as part of his sentence. He smiles a lot now." Hermione smiled, recalling his joy in talking about Ariana.

Ron's eyes widened, "I had no clue he could smile." He paused, and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well, Hermione, if anyone is a good judge of character it's you. Let us know how it goes tomorrow evening if you can make it." He chuckled, "Feel free to Hex him if he steps out of line."

Hermione giggled, "Don't worry, I wouldn't hesitate."

"See you tomorrow." Ron leaned in giving her a tight hug, before walking towards the apparition point and disappearing. Hermione read the address from the scroll again and walked into the fireplace, the queue now gone.

The emerald flames swirled around her, as she began spinning, when the fire finally coughed her out, into a moderate sized room. Not an inch of wall could be seen because of the floor to ceiling bookshelves that dominated most of the walls, save for the fireplace and a large window opposite her. In the center of the room were two large armchairs on a plush rug, with a small lamp in between. Sitting in the chair facing her was Draco.

Smiling at the witch, he shut his book, and placed it on the table beside him. He stood up walking towards her. He was enjoying watching her marvel at the library; her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. Hands in his jean pockets, he waited, letting her take in the room. It wasn't a big room, and it didn't even compare to the library at the Manor, but it worked for him.

Hermione finally stopped studying the room and took notice of Draco standing a foot away. Walking forward she gave him a quick but tight hug, which she was surprised he returned. His hand against the small of her back left her with butterflies in her stomach, and his delectable scent was doing things to her, she couldn't even explain. Pulling away she looked into his grey eyes that flashed with something she couldn't read.

Moving them onto the topic at hand, "So I thought it would be fun to have some Chinese while we work on her room. Does that sound like a plan," Hermione asked.

"Sounds great, but where are you going to get Chinese from?" Draco quirked an eyebrow up.

"Well, if you allow me to apparate, I can be back in 10 minutes with some delicious General Tsu's chicken and fried rice!" She beamed at him.

"I thought you were the brightest Witch of our age?" He smirked at her. "I'm secret-keeper and gave you the address, feel free to come and go as you please." He winked at her, adoring the redness that filled her cheeks.

"Oh." Hermione was lost for words, she hadn't thought that much about Draco providing his address, but as he was still an ex-Death Eater, he probably had a few enemies. "Ok, well I'll be back." She turned on the spot and disappeared.

Draco stood where he was, inhaling her sweet floral scent, it mingled with the smell of the books perfectly, making him think of springtime, outside at the Manor's gardens with a book. Most people didn't realize he loved books; it was how he escaped his reality a lot. He wasn't second in his class for nothing. Hermione had just always overshadowed him, and rightly so, she was bloody brilliant.

He couldn't begin to explain the feelings that were beginning to churn inside of him. The last few days had him smiling more then he could ever remember. Her letters, full of quick wit, a hint of sacrasm, but an incredible amount of joy were like drugs, feeding his system full of happiness, and he needed more. He knew he should be solely focused on bringing Ariana home, and he was, but he also couldn't keep Hermione out of his mind.

Sitting back down in the chair, he picked up the book he was reading. _The Hobbit_ by some Muggle named Tolkien. It had been one of the books Hermione had picked out for Ariana, and he had read very few Muggle books in his life, but this one caught his attention and he couldn't put it down. He had grown to love the Muggles' fascination with magic and wizards. It was entertaining.

Draco was so absorbed in the book that he barely heard the crack that ripped through the air in the library. Hermione stood in the center of the room, two large grocery bags in her hands, Chinese writing on the front. "Hungry?" She inquired, finally drawing the attention of the blonde wizard.

"Starving." Draco placed his book back and lead Hermione through the library, and into the hallway, lined with paintings of landscapes around England and Scotland. He turned to his left and walked into a large, bright kitchen. It was large by British standards, and featured a full-sized Muggle refrigerator and stove. He walked over the icebox, "What can I get you to drink?"

Hermione sat the bags down onto the counter, "A butterbeer if you have it." Unloading the bag, she sniffed the air, greedy, her stomach growling. "Have you ever had Chinese?"

"A few times, but I prefer Italian." He smirked, handing her a butterbeer. Draco grabbed plates from the cabinet and joined her at the breakfast bar.

"This is the best Chinese around. I'm going to rock your world."

"Oh Miss Granger, I have no doubt." He winked before digging in.

 **XXXXX**

An hour later, Hermione and Draco were both in a state of non-movement from how much they had eaten. Draco groaned, "Damn woman, don't you know a spell for this?"

Hermione giggled, but instantly regretted it, and her giggle turned to a groan. "That was so good, but I think I need a few minutes before we do any heavy lifting."

"Heavy lifting?" Draco stared at her, "You do remember that little thing called magic, right? Why in the bloody hell would you move anything yourself?"

She sighed, but looked him in the eyes, "Because some things are better done without magic, and putting together your daughter's room is one of them." She smiled at him, and watched as her words sunk in.

"You're absolutely right." Pausing he downed his butterbeer, "Why don't I give you a tour of the house before we go to her room?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile, she had only seen two rooms unless you counted the hallway, which she didn't. "Lead the way."

Draco took her out of the kitchen and into the great room, which had more bookshelves but was dominated by two story windows, hung with light green curtains. The couches looked incredibly comfortable, and modern. He then showed her a guest bedroom, which had dark woods and grey bedding, but also had a modern look. There was a bathroom off the hallway near the bedrooms and as they walked by a staircase on the right, he whispered, "That leads to Ariana's room." He continued down the hall and at the very end opened the door to the left.

Hermione walked into the largest bedroom she had ever seen, except she couldn't consider it a bedroom, more like a wing of the home. Ahead of her was a large canopy bed, with grey bedding, and lighter grey hangings. At the end of the bed was a beautiful chest, which was upholstered on top with a rich grey satin. As she turned to her right, she saw a small sitting area and a small desk, which faced towards the large windows that had a beautiful view of the gardens outside. The setting sun highlighted all. It defied her expectations; where she had expected dark and lots of green, she was met with light, airy and bright. The décor was a complete contradiction to the young man she knew in school, but an appropriate description of the man she was coming to know.

"It's beautiful," Hermione replied breathless. For the last hour, she and Draco had acted like friends, but there had been more there, a light flirting and a feeling of hope for something more.

Draco marveled at the witch before him, the setting sun causing a yellow aura to form around her, and she had never looked more beautiful. Her ministry robes had been forgotten in the kitchen and underneath she wore a tight black muggle skirt and a white top, her hair in a loose bun on top of her head, some stray curls having escaped.

Draco's thoughts were pushed to the side when she remarked, "If this is what your room looks like, what does Ariana's look like?"

Draco chuckled, "Actually it looks a mess, but her room does have the best view." He shrugged, seemingly unapologetic for his spoiling of his daughter.

Draco held his arm out indicating for her to lead, and Hermione started for the hallway. She headed for the stairs, mindful of Draco's eyes on her bum, but all thoughts of Draco left her mind when she caught sight of his daughter's room.

It was as though every dream she had as a little girl had come true in this one room. It was a large room with cream-colored walls, and beautiful plush carpet. On one end of the room was a big open wall, but on the opposite end of the room, the entire wall was one large bay window, complete with raised seating. The room was a blank canvas, with all her furniture still wrapped tightly and boxes of her things all in one corner.

"Draco, she's going to love this room. Any little girl would. It's incredible." She paused, walking towards the windows that had an even greater view of the gardens surrounding the little cottage. "I dreamt of having one of these windows growing up. Oh she'll love it." Hermione smiled gleefully.

Her excitement was contagious, and Draco could only hope that Ariana would love it as much as Hermione did.

For the next few hours they set about building the furniture, Hermione surprised by how Draco threw himself into the manual labor. She filled the bookshelves with books and odd knick-knacks that made her smile. As each book left her hands, she poured a wish over it, each different but all hoping for a happy Ariana, who could see the love Draco already had for her.

When they were finished, the sun was set, but Hermione had thrown light throughout the room. They sat on the floor against a wall, smiling. Draco had watched Hermione give this room her all, she had had a similar look on her face as when she took tests, but he had never seen her smile falter. He hadn't known how satisfying it would be to build all of the furniture with his bare hands, but he had relished in it, knowing that each piece was made with an incredible amount of love and sweat.

They both were so lost in thought that they didn't hear the crack of apparition from downstairs, and almost didn't hear the movement up the staircase. Both wands drawn, they rushed to their feet, standing side by side. Draco's wand lowered when he caught sight of his mother, who was walking slowly up the stairs, her age showing.

"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed, catching sight of Hermione. "Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company." Narcissa had reached the top of the stairs, curiosity called her to move further into the room.

"Mother, you've met Hermione Granger, but that was under much less pleasant circumstances. Hermione, I would like to introduce you to my mother, Narcissa." Draco's smile was tight, as he watched Narcissa walk forward, hand extended. Hermione paused, glancing first at Draco who smiled, before she shook hands with Narcissa.

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione's voice quaked, she was suddenly so unsure of herself.

"Please, dear, call me Narcissa." The older witch smiled at the younger, trying to make her feel more comfortable. "Well Draco, I see you decorated without me, the room looks wonderful."

"Sorry Mother, you had said you would be busy planning the Orphan's Charity Ball in three weeks and I didn't want to bother you. Hermione helped me buy most of this, so it only seemed fair she get to see it." Draco beamed at the younger witch, who seemed lost for words, something that amused him greatly.

Hermione finally seemed to find her words, "I should be going," she muttered.

"You don't have to leave," Draco explained, not wanting her to leave.

"No I should go, I have some reading to do before work tomorrow." Hermione walked towards the stairs, Draco following behind her, leaving his mother in the middle of the room.

Hermione turned to look at him, her brown eyes showing confusion. Her hand rested on the handrail, where Draco laid his on top, trying to get her to stay. "Hermione." His voice soft and pleading, as her eyes widened at his touch, before she pulled away, racing down the stairs, and into the kitchen to grab her robes and bag before she Apparated away.

Draco's eyes closed, knowing his mother was watching him, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He didn't know what he felt for Hermione Granger, but he did know he wasn't ready to let her leave his life, not until he understood what he felt. It was the most inconvenient timing, but he had lived with enough regret in his life, and he had vowed to never have regrets again.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	9. Cold Comfort (Number 9)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Cold Comfort (Number 9)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: T  
Genre: Hurt/Comfort  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Language, Anxiety, Panic, PTSD possibly**

* * *

 **Cold Comfort**

* * *

"Granger, what the flying fuck are you doing?"

The words flew out of Draco's mouth before he knew what he was saying, pure shock at the sight of Hermione Granger hovering cross-legged near the ceiling of the Great Hall with her wand out and a huge book nestled on her lap squeezing the exclamation out of him in possibly the longest sentence he'd spoken to another human since returning to Hogwarts to finish his NEWTs.

Startled, the bushy-haired girl wobbled for a moment as she turned towards his voice. Draco's stomach lurched and he damn near vomited on the spot. He'd had no head for heights ever since sixth year.

"Trying to decipher the workings of a 1000 year old enchantment so I can repair this gaping hole in the sky if you must know, Malfoy." Granger huffed, but he got the impression she was more annoyed with her lack of progress than him, somehow.

Either way he was clearly not wanted there, and he wasn't sure why he should want to be there since he'd spent the last two weeks avoiding his fellow pupils as much as he could. All thing considered Granger was probably the last person he should be around, and yet he hesitated.

"Did… did you seriously wingardium leviosa yourself up there?"

"What if I did?" Granger asked distractedly, peering up at the jagged black rip through the cloudless dusk outside and making notes with her left hand while she kept her wand trained firmly downwards, holding her up.

"Oh, nothing," Draco said, his mouth rushing ahead of him again, unable to resist a catty remark. "I just thought you were actually smart, that's all."

"Go away, Malfoy."

"Only if you stop being a bloody idiot and come down." Draco wasn't sure who or what he was anymore, but he didn't think he wanted to be someone who left people hovering irresponsibly at great heights without at least attempting to talk them down. "You're not going to be fixing anything if you fall from up there Granger, and I have no desire to see any- any more-"

The word bodies fell silent between them and Draco was sure he actually would be sick that time, everything he'd done and hadn't done rising up inside him like bile, but the sight of Granger actually listening to him and drifting back to the ground in a beautifully controlled descent stopped the rushing in his ears.

"Wow," he said, awed at the skill that must have taken. Granger hugged the huge book she carried to her chest and Draco had a fleeting thought of how much she would love the library back at Malfoy Manor. He imagined her drifting gracefully along the tallest shelves in search of a volume, absorbed in thought like she had been when he'd walked in.

Of course, many of the books on the upper shelves would bite her arm off as soon as they got a whiff of her tainted blood, but until then she probably would love it. And she was a Gryffindor after all; she might even be more impressed with a room full of dangerous books. Not that Draco had any interest in impressing her. Not that she impressed him.

"What do you want?" she asked, not even sounding annoyed, or angry to see him. Just tired. Draco noticed for the first time just how drained she looked, and when her brown eyes searched his grey he thought he felt an acknowledgement pass between them. Both of them had seen too much. There was too much to be said and he didn't know where to even begin. I'm sorry didn't cover the barest fraction of it. He dropped his eyes, focusing instead on the book in her arms.

"Is that… Hogwarts: A History?"

"You've read it?" Granger actually looked shocked. Draco was scandalised.

"Have I read it? In first year there was an actual troll loose in the dungeons. Crabbe-" his voice became almost a croak on the name and he took a second to get hold of himself. "-him and Goyle were messing about playfighting on that staircase behind the tapestry on the second floor, and he spent an hour sunk into the trick step head first. In second year a gigantic basilisk was slithering through our plumbing petrifying people-" and Draco had been a complete idiot back then too, of course "…Who wouldn't find out everything they can about the castle?"

Granger seemed surprised and maybe even… impressed? "Harry and Ron never would." she said. Draco gawped.

"Seriously? Does Potter have no self-preservation instincts at all? How did he even make it through seven years here to defeat the Dark Lo- Voldemort?" he shivered at the name, and all the memories and guilt and self-loathing that came with it. The blind terror of realising just how wrong he'd gotten everything when he was in far, far too deep to get out. He almost couldn't breathe, standing there talking to her of all people when he'd known what his aunt was capable of and been too scared to- He forced himself to breathe, to paint a small, wry smile on his face. "I mean, I grew up in a manor full of dark artefacts and even I think this castle is full of crazy shit."

Granger actually laughed. Only a little, but Draco didn't even remember the last time he'd been able to crack a joke and have someone laugh.

"Well, Harry had his own… help finding his way around the castle." she said hesitantly, a little smile on her face. Draco had never seen her smile up close before, never noticed the dimple in her cheek when she did. He felt something flutter for a second and was suddenly pretty sure that even after everything, he had never been as much of an idiot as he was right there and then. This was probably some sort of punishment from a higher power. He absolutely could not fancy Granger. He forced himself to break the silence that was hinging on uncomfortable.

"I bloody knew he was cheating." he said.

Granger blinked at him, puzzled, smile fading.

"Cheating at what?"

"At life of course." Draco said, gesturing expansively. It was completely stupid, but he wanted to hear that laugh again. "Either that or his blood is made of felix felicis."

His efforts were rewarded with a startled giggle, but a troubled look soon followed, as if she were worried she had betrayed something somehow. He took out his wand and conjured two chairs and a table for that boulder of a book. The new Draco Malfoy wasn't someone who left people worrying alone at impossible problems either. He sat and ushered for her to do the same. Granger laid her book down reverentially on the table, and lowered herself into the chair.

"I have to ask, Granger…" he said. "McGonagall, Flitwick, and basically every other teacher in the school have tried and failed to repair whatever charm the founders cast on this ceiling. So why on Earth have you decided to take it upon yourself to fix it?"

It must have been pure shock at his directness that broke through her barriers. He couldn't imagine why else she would open up to him of all people.

"I just… wanted to be able to fix something. " she said, head bowed, shoulders slumped.

"Oh," Draco reached out a hand to rest on hers and by some miracle it wasn't shaken away. "They didn't come back, Potter and Weasley."

She shook her head. "No, and they're hurting so much and I tried all summer but I just don't know how to help, I-" she sobbed suddenly, tears springing from her eyes. Draco had no idea how to comfort her and he knew it wouldn't be welcome anyway, so he stuck to the matter at hand.

"So you chose the near impossible task that everyone before you has failed at?" he asked. She only shrugged. He let go of her hand and folded his arms. Maybe he wasn't the right person to help her at all, but it seemed like maybe, right now, he was the only person. "It sounds to me like you don't want to succeed. Like you're punishing yourself."

"You don't know me," she said quietly, but there was no anger in her voice, only shock. He'd hit home, then. He'd always been perceptive, maybe he could start putting it to different use.

"I don't." he agreed, "But I do have extensive experience of trying to fix the impossible." That cabinet had nearly killed him, and some days he wished it had.

Granger was looking at him like she'd never seen him before. Her eyes said what are you? and the thumping in his chest said I don't know. It was a long time before she spoke.

"You never eat in the Great Hall. Or speak in lessons unless you have to. I overheard Pansy Parkinson say you only go to your Common Room to sleep."

"I've been talking to the house elves a bit," he admitted. "I go to the kitchens for food." Draco swallowed, hard. She was perceptive too, and maybe he owed her some truth. "I saw one of my best friends… die horribly," he said, "and he deserved it. But… I deserved it too, and I was saved by my worst enemy."

He received the greatest shock of his life when his face was suddenly enveloped in curly brown hair, and two arms wrapped around him.

"Then you just have to earn it, Draco." she whispered in his ear, after everything he'd ever done and said. He choked back a sob himself. Potter's mercy had only broken him more, but he felt like her forgiveness might actually fix something in him, if he could only make himself worthy of it. He pushed her off him gently, then rolled up his sleeves.

"Ok, show me your notes and we'll work out what to try next." he said.

"But you don't think it can be done."

"Well, Granger- Hermione. It seems to me that lost causes are something of a specialty of mine."

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	10. Apocalyptic Renegade (Number 10)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Apocalyptic Renegade (Number 10)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: T  
Genre: Angst/Romance  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: Just a bit of swearing!**

* * *

 **Apocalyptic Renegade**

* * *

Hermione sat on the First Compartment of the Hogwarts Express, the one usually reserved for Prefects and Head Students, with her trunk already in place, and Crookshanks trying to make himself comfortable on the seat right in front of her.

Her watch read 10.53, there were still seven minutes to go, and most of the students were on the Platform, saying goodbye to their loved ones; she took a novel out of her backpack, rested her left shoulder on the window, and opened the book right where she had left.

She and Ginny had already said goodbye to their friends and family at the Burrow - even Harry and Ron had asked for permission to get in a couple of hours later to their Auror Training so that they could be there-, and had parted ways as soon as they got to the Station, Hermione excusing herself with the prospect of a Heads' meeting.

As the minutes passed, she could hear more and more people getting on the train, the hooting of the owls being moved from one side to another getting louder as they were correctly placed on each compartment. The engine finally came to life and chatter filled the place.

She lost herself on the story she was reading, -a muggle book that had apparently become really popular and she had felt the urge to check out-. As it was, she'd already devoured the first two and a half books of the series and had placed an order for the fourth one, unable to get enough.

The compartment's door opened and she was brought back to reality. She looked up and brown eyes met a cold gray stare. Draco Malfoy stood there, his right hand clinging tightly to the strap of his bag hanging on his shoulder, carefully set as to avoid messing his shirt.

"Granger:" he muttered and nodded. He closed the door behind him, placed his trunk on the first available spot he saw and sat down in front of her.

"Hello, Draco." she greeted him, trying to muster the tiniest of smiles. Even if she didn't held a grudge against him from everything that had happened during the war, it was impossible for her to let go of all the animosity, but she'd promised herself she'd try her best.

Sensing movement near him, Crookshanks woke up and hissed at Draco, immediately sprinting towards his owner. Draco didn't comment on that, which Hermione found surprising but decided not to say anything. If Draco Malfoy had decided to stop being a prick, who was she to stop him?

They stayed silent and Hermione went back to her book. The train ride was long, and she wanted to enjoy it while she still could, knowing that in any moment the compartment was going to be filled with prefects and two other Head-Students.

As if sensing her thoughts, the door opened and the first couples of Prefects - 6th year Ravenclaws and 7th year Hufflepuffs- entered the compartment, soon followed by the 5th year Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

Introductions were made - Hermione already knew most of them anyway- and after ten minutes, the compartment was completely full. Due to the amount of students coming back to re-do their seventh year, there were two sets of Head Students, and added to the usual twelve pairs of prefects, Crookshanks found himself on the head rail, and the movement was highly restricted.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying to get everyone's attention and when the room fell silent, she spoke.

"Okay, everyone, we should start organizing our patrolling schedule… we need four people per day from Monday to Saturday, Draco and I will handle Sundays on Headmistress McGonagall's request. It is important that we maintain an equal scheme, so each patrolling group must be formed by one person from each house. Especially after what we've been through in the past year and a half, it's extremely important that we promote house unity among the younger students."

Every student in the compartment nodded, even the Slytherins, and Hermione went on with a small smile.

"We would need to meet again after the welcoming feast to write down the actual schedule… but for now, please, take some time to patrol the express' corridors and make sure there are not troublemakers on the train, while you choose your preferred teammates from each house."

A collection of "okay" could be heard as every prefect quietly left the compartment, probably heading of to find their own friends. Hermione noticed the Slytherins leaving last; they seemed to be going together everywhere, wary of everyone around them, and she felt sorry for them.

"Don't look at them like they're some puppies left outside on a rainy day. They don't need your pity." Draco's harsh tone threw her out of her thoughts and she gasped.

"I am not pitying them!" she objected, glaring at him.

"You are! Everybody is! They look at Slytherins as if they're going to break down any moment because they lost it all, when it is our house the one full of reserved façades' experts. We-They don't need anyone's pity, and the sooner everything goes back to normal between the houses, the better!"

Draco was fuming, his anger was almost palpable in the space between them.

"That's the whole point, Malfoy! Things don't have to go back to the way they were between the houses. Haven't you learnt anything from the war?! All the stupid prejudices against one house or the other only deepen the animosity between us, and look how well that turned out!"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her right hand unconsciously rubbing the sleeve-covered spot where the mudblood scar rested.

"We have an opportunity to change things for the best, even if it is only by supporting those Slytherins who need it or convincing a close-minded Gryffindor that your house does not determine your level of goodness or badness."

"Look, Granger, I appreciate the sentiment but don't even try to make Slytherins your next charity project. You'll be way better off trying to save house elves with that spew or whatever it was called. I don't care about house unity, I care about not making Slytherins abandon their comfort zone and become vulnerable thanks to some goody-two shoes who marvellously can still see the good in people and only expects good things from them. News flash, Granger, there are bad people out there, tons of them actually… one would have guessed you'd know a little bit about it after spending the last two years in the middle of a war."

"Argh, you are an insufferable arse, Malfoy!"

She grabbed her backpack and decided to roam the train corridors as an excuse to get as far as possible from the pureblood and calm herself down. He could have lost a lot of things in the war, but Draco Malfoy was still a pompous arsehole.

She quietly checked every compartment, making sure there wasn't any trouble going on, until she got to the very last one, where Ginny, Luna, Neville and the rest of their friends were in the middle of an argument.

"The Holyhead Harpies are obviously going to win the cup this year, they've been getting better and their seeker is amazing!" said Ginny, a smirk on her face and a slight air of superiority.

"Yeah but their keeper sucks!" Ernie McMillan chimed in. "The Falcons' keeper, on the other hand…"

"Shut up, Ernie. You only root for them because their keeper is hot!" Ginny exclaimed and punched him rather strongly on the arm.

"I feel it is my duty, seeing as Ron is not longer here, to defend the Chudley Cannons and say their new seeker is slightly better than the last one and they might have a chance to get further than first round this year." Neville added with a small grin and went back to his conversation with Hannah Abbott.

"I believe Puddlemere will have a real chance to win, they got a new seeker who's supposed to be the best thing ever."

Hermione smirked at that and finally spoke.

"Yeah and with Oliver as their keeper, they're pretty likely to get far."

"Hermione!" Luna and Neville said in unison and stood up to hug her.

"How are you?" Ginny told us you've been chosen as Head Girl, not that we'd expected anything different, but congratulations!"

"Thanks, Nev. I'm fine, excited to finally have a year without dark wizards interfering with our education,,, and slightly annoyed at certain headboy, but that's not important right now."

"So I guess the rumours about Malfoy being chosen headboy are true then, huh?"

"Yeah, don't remind me." she huffed and sat down next to Ernie. "He's being a cry baby that thinks everyone pities him and it makes him mad because why would anyone feel anything other than envy and respect for the great Draco my-father-will-hear-about-this Malfoy or any other Slytherin for that matter? I swear I don't know what Professor McGonagall was thinking when she chose him as Head Boy!"

"I guess we have a whole year ahead of us to find out." Hannah commented and winked. "As long as you don't murder each other on the first week, that is."

"I can't promise anything."

"That bad, huh?" Ginny said and laughed. It felt just like the old times.

* * *

Hermione stayed with her friends for half the journey until she decided it was time for another patrolling round. Besides, she had to go back to her compartment eventually.

She roamed the corridor, stopping a few times to either say hi to people she knew - mostly Gryffindors- or to greet and answer questions from several first years.

When she finally got back to the Heads' compartment, it was to find it empty except for a sleeping Crookshanks and a lot of luggage.

Taking advantage of the solitude and not knowing just how long it would last, she quickly closed all the curtains and locked the door with just a flick of her wrist and changed into her Hogwarts uniform.

She was fixing her bushy hair when she heard the door unlock. She cursed under her breath, vanished the mirror she had conjured earlier and opened the curtains just as Malfoy entered the compartment.

"You could have at least knocked." She spat, closing her backpack and sitting down on the same spot she'd occupied earlier.

"I didn't know I needed permission to enter the Heads' compartment being a Headboy myself." Draco countered with false amusement. His left brow raised defiantely.

"We-well, you don't… but it is a simple matter of respect, Malfoy, although I don't know if your parents ever taught you what that is."

"Do not, I repeat, do NOT bring my parents into this, mu-Granger!"

He was so close to her that Hermione could almost feel his hatred physically hitting her like waves, and his cold stare was boring two holes on her skull.

Her breathing was shallow and for a moment she was back at Malfoy Manor, a similar but more demented stare fixed on her and the thought of the end of her life being just around the corner stronger than ever.

She shook her head and focused on the world around her on an attempt to bring herself back to reality. The Hogwarts' Express. The Heads' compartment. She was changing into her uniform. Crookshanks. And lastly, Malfoy.

"Woah, Hermione, are you alright?" the voice of Morag MacDougal, the Seventh year Ravenclaw prefect, made her spin her head around so fast she felt a little dizzy.

"Y-yes, yes… I'm okay."

"Are you sure? You look as if a dementor was just here." She glared at Malfoy, who was now at the other side of the compartment, as if guessing he'd had something to do with whatever had caused Hermione to end up in that state, but the blonde Slytherin simply went on with his business, took his uniform out of his trunk and left the compartment.

"I'm okay, really." Hermione insisted, standing up. "Draco and I were having an argument but nothing happened."  
"Ok, if you say so. Anyway, we'll get to Hogsmeade in about half an hour, I just came to get my uniform but I thought we should let everyone know… especially the first years."

"Yes, great idea! I'm going to start on that then, you take your time." She smiled at Morgan and left, leaving the Ravenclaw alone.

Once again, she made her way to the other side of the train, popping her head into every single compartment and letting their occupants know they were about to get to their destination and that -if they hadn't- they'd better put on their uniforms quickly.

When she got to the last one, where her friends were already dressed appropriately, she sat down on the same spot she had been earlier just as she caught a chocolate frog Ginny threw in her direction.

"Thanks, Gin." she said as she opened the small box, carefully grabbing the frog before it had a chance to jump.

She took a bite and the effect was immediate. She felt calmer and the color was back on her face. It was easy to see exactly why Professor Lupin loved chocolate so much and adjudicated it so many benefits. Chocolate did make everything better.

When the train began to slow down, signalizing the end of the journey, she sprinted back to the first compartment for what felt like the millionth time that day, to get her things before the corridors were full of students.

She. along with the rest of the prefects and head students, guided the first years to where Hagrid stood holding a lamp, with Fang at his side.

"Firs' years over 'ere! Firs' years!" the half-giant said, waving his free hand.

He motioned the bigger-than-usual crowd to follow him to the lake and one by one the first years got into the boats in small groups of three, just as the older students got on the carriages.

Hermione purposely focused on the first years, knowing that at least half of the older students would be seeing the thestrals for the first time, and she didn't want to be the one to explain their 'sudden' appearance.

Once the last boat parted, she turned around to find only one carriage left, and Luna standing by, clearly waiting for her.

"Come on, Hermione! We saved you a seat" the blonde girl said, patting one of the thestrals on the head before taking her seat next to Ginny.

"Thanks" Hermione muttered mindlessly. Her thoughts focused on the corpse-like creatures.

The short ride to the castle was filled with chatter about the classes they were or were not taking as well as who the new professor would be, seeing as Professor McGonagall had taken the position of Headmistress and Professor Snape had passed away on the Battle.

They got to the castle, left their trunks on the growing pile next to the main doors where -as usual- the house elves would pick them up and send them to their respective rooms, and headed to the Great Hall, excited for the sorting… and the welcoming Feast.

They each went to their own tables, and Hermione, Neville and Ginny took the seats on the Gryffindor table closest to the front, leaving enough available seats for the newcomers.

They greeted their fellow housemates and focused on Professor Flitwick, who was carrying a roll of parchment on one hand and levitating the stool with the sorting hat with the other.

He looked to where Hermione knew the first years were and instructed them, in his squeaky voice, to step up front when their names were called.

The first to be called was a short blonde girl named Evangeline Adams, who was sorted into Hufflepuff, followed by a new addition to Ravenclaw by the name of Julien Arkham.

After almost an hour, the last first year to be sorted was Thaddeus Ziegler, who ended up in Slytherin, and the new deputy headmaster easily vanished the stool and hat with a wave of his wand.

Once professor Flitwick was back in his seat, Minerva McGonagall stood up, walked to the atrium and, after clearing her throat, began with the announcements.

"Welcome, once again, to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we began with our feast, I shall make a few announcements. First, please welcome our newest additions to the staff, Mr. Cresswell, who will be taking over the Transfiguration position as well as Gryffindor Head of House." a tall, black-haired man with bright blue eyes stood up, acknowledged everyone in the room with a small nod and sat down again. "And Mr. Cooper, who will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from now on."

A short man next to Professor Flitwick waved his hand and smiled, allowing the headmistress to continue.

"As always, the Forest is off limits, and despite all the work we've done trying to bring the castle back to what it was before the war, there are still several zones you should avoid, with every one of them being signaled appropriately. And lastly, due to some inconvenients regarding accommodation, the Eighth years will have their shared rooms on the third corridor, fairly close to the Arithmancy classroom, instead of adding two extra rooms to each House. Now, please enjoy the Feast!"

Professor McGonagall waved her hand and suddenly all the tables were filled with all kinds of food, to the usual amazement of the first years. Hermione filled her plate with roast chicken and mashed potatoes, and enjoyed the much missed meal.

Once dinner was over, Headmistress McGonagall said a few more words and then sent everyone on their way to the dorms. Hermione, along with the six Gryffindor prefects, lead the first years to the Seventh Floor and to Gryffindor tower..

"Okay, the stairs on the left lead to the boys' dormitories, and the stairs on the right, to the girls'. You will find your belongings already at the end of your respective beds, any questions you might have, please do not hesitate to ask us. Tomorrow morning Professor Cresswell, our Head of House, will hand out your schedules."

The first years nodded and, after splitting up into two big groups, they headed to their rooms, exhaustion clear on their faces.

Hermione motioned to the Prefects to follow her and together they exited the common room, making their way to the Heads' quarters, where the rest of the prefects and Head Students were already waiting for them.

Hermione said the password aloud _-Unity-_ and everyone settled on the small but cozy common room, except for Draco who went straight to his room, seeing as he didn't have to organize anything for himself as the Headmistress had already taken care of that.

"The faster we do this, the better." Hermione began and conjured a piece of parchment, a quill and ink. "As I've already told you, we need one person per house each day, so… who's patrolling on Monday?"

One member of each house raised their hand and Hermione wrote down the names on the piece of parchment until every single day had been properly organized; then she made a copy for each Prefect to keep and bid them goodbye, before retreating to the room she shared with Abigail Winkins, the 7th year Head Girl.

* * *

The next morning Hermione woke up earlier than intended and headed to the common room to waste some time before going to have breakfast. The room was deserted, so she took advantage of the solitude to read for a while, before the three other Head students made their appearances.

When it became a reasonable hour for breakfast to begin, Hermione went back to her room to leave the book she'd grabbed, took her wand and headed to the Great Hall.

She entered a half-full room where she immediately spotted Ginny's fierce red hair at the Gryffindor table and headed in that direction, taking a seat right in front of her friend.

"Morning, Gin."

"Morning, 'Mione… how was your first night back?"

"It was surprisingly better than I expected." Hermione confided while she filled her plate with a little bit of everything. "I think it was the first night in months that I didn't have a nightmare."

"Well, that's great!" the youngest Weasley mumbled while stuffing her mouth with bacon,reminding Hermione of Ron.

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley." a raspy voice caught their attention and Hermione looked up to see their new Transfiguration professor standing next to her, holding what seemed to be their schedules. "Here you go."  
"Thank you, sir." the tall man nodded and continued handing out the small pieces of paper. Hermione focused on hers, and was glad to see her first class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She finished her breakfast with half an hour to spare and went back to her room to retrieve her bag and the books she would need for the day. She got to the Defense classroom just as her wrist watch read nine o'clock, so she hurried to take a seat over the farthest wall of the room, where she could have a good view of the whole classroom. Old habits did die hard.

As it was a N.E.W.T. level class, only a handful of students from each house decided to take it, so there was only one class for all the four houses. Still, five minutes later, all the seats were taken - Neville had overslept and had to take the last available seat, which was next to Goyle- and Professor Cooper entered the room, wearing what looked really similar to an Auror uniform.

"Good morning, class. Please put away your books and quills. It is my understanding that your education on this subject has been interrupted and mostly incompetent over the past few years, to say the least, so I will base our classes on a practical methodology. I want you all to push your desks aside next to the walls and I will call two people at aa time to do a demonstration of what you have learned so far."

Everyone in the room stood up and did as professor Cooper had asked, piling their backpacks on the desks by the walls.

"Okay, let's see… " the man muttered, list in hand. "Miss… Granger! Please come to the center… and Mr…. Malfoy, yes."

Hermione groaned and cursed under her breath. Of all the people in the room, she had to be paired up with Draco bloody Malfoy. Talk about unfair.

"Very well, now… the idea is for you to have a duel. Let's keep it as clean as possible, do not use any dark nor forbidden curses, and keep in mind that the purpose of this duel is to show your knowledge, not to hurt the other person. Now please shake hands so we can begin."

Hermione held out her right hand and Draco shook it for half a second, with a sneer plastered on his face the whole time. They turned around and walked a few steps in opposite directions, wand in hand.

"And begin!"

Hermione turned around as fast as her body allowed her to and immediately shot Malfoy a non-verbal Expelliarmus that he easily dodged and countered with a stunner that a simple Protego took care of.

The bushy haired witch conjured a flock of small turquoise birds that flew in circles around Malfoy and distracted him for a moment, enough for Hermione to cast the tripping curse and make him fall. Draco, still on the floor, threw a stinging hex at her which hit her square on the chest and she lost her balance, allowing Draco to cast a binding spell at her… and succeed.

The ropes trapped her tightly, leaving her down on the floor trying to muster enough movement to actually cast a spell. She noticed it wasn't a regular binding spell, as the more she tried to fight it, the tighter they got, reminding her of a Devil's Snare.

"Well, well Granger… You're not that great now, are you? " Draco exclaimed, getting closer. "Expelliarmus!"

She felt her wand fly out of her hand and could hear the smirk in Malfoy's voice.

"Well, I think we're done here, professor." The blonde wizard said and Hermione could feel her own blood boil.

She took the deepest breath she could, which wasn't much seeing as the ropes were getting tighter by the minute, and tried to concentrate.

"Please work" she whispered and, putting all her strength and focus on a single thought, she flicked her hand and muttered "Diffindo."

Slowly, the ropes began to break one by one as if cut with an invisible knife.

As soon as the last one was broken Hermione stood up and summoned her wand out of Draco's grip, who looked annoyed to say the least.

"Yeah you might want to reconsider that, Malfoy."

"Amazing display of wandless magic!" The professor chimed in. He looked as if Christmas had come early. "Five points to Gryffindor!"

Draco groaned and waved his wand, throwing another stinging hex her way, but this time Hermione was fast enough to dodge it and cast an Impedimenta, followed by a stunner that barely hit Draco on his right shoulder and made him drop his wand. She casted the jelly finger curse so that he wouldn't be able to actually get a grip on anything, and accio'd said wooden stick just to be sure.

"Now I really think we are done here." She exclaimed mockingly and handed Malfoy's wand to Mr. Cooper, who was beaming.

"Yes, yes… congratulations, Miss Granger! I must say I'm impressed! Twenty points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for such an amazing demonstration! "

He casted a Finite Incantatem at Draco, who quickly fixed his clothes and went to his friends, desperately trying to hide his embarrassment. Hermione walked to where her friends stood, and both Ginny and Neville congratulated her with a small hug each.

The rest of the class was also spent dueling. Neville went against Hannah Abbott, resulting in a victory for the shy Hufflepuff, which Hermione was sure had something to do with certain crush the Gryffindor had; Gregory Goyle dueled Padma Patil, who obviously got a victory for Ravenclaw House and lastly, Ginny faced Blaise Zabini and lost for a tiny mistake, which only made her extremely furious, but Hermione comforted the with the reminder of all the power behind her bat bogey hex that would probably torment Zabini until the end of time. Those things were monstrous.

Before they left the classroom, and to the annoyance of one Draco Malfoy, Professor Cooper congratulated Hermione one more time for her wandless magic, saying it was a sign of her being an extremely powerful witch and that she would get really far in life if she put her mind into it.

She thanked him and her friends dragged her to the Great Hall to have lunch before she took advantage of having a free afternoon to lose herself in the library.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by like a blur with Hermione checking almost every single shelf in the library and writing down the name of every book she wanted to examine thoroughly when she had enough time, until Madame Pince subtly but firmly kind of kicked her out with the excuse that dinner was about to start.

Dinner was -over all- a quiet affair, with most first years whispering between them about their classes, and the older students mostly talking about the upcoming Quidditch try outs or the two new additions to the Hogwarts staff, but Hermione didn't participate in either, instead choosing to focus on the two feets of parchment Mr. Cooper had given them for homework. She had already outlined her essay about protective and defensive spells and was underlining the names of the books she would get the necessary information from while getting something to eat.

* * *

"Watch where you're going, Granger." Malfoy spat as he shouldered past her and to one of the couches.

"What's your goddamned problem, Malfoy?!" Hermione yelled, annoyed. "Are you so butthurt about today's duel that you're going to behave more like an arse than usual?!"

"Oh, I'm the arse? I'm sorry Miss know-it-fucking-all who can't stand anyone beating her at anything so she has to be a fucking show off!"

"Oh, so this IS about the duel, huh? Do me a favour and grow up, Malfoy!"

Draco sprinted towards her, his eyes darker than usual, and grabbed her left wrist, pushing her against the nearest wall. His face barely inches away from hers.

"I'm so sick of you, Granger." he whispered, and she could feel his breath on her face. "You have no idea just how much. I'm so sick of you being Little Miss Perfect all the time, always trying to be better than everyone else, always getting the attention." With every word he pushed himself closer to her, until almost every inch of their bodies was touching. "Always the teacher's pet, the good little girl standing up for the defenseless and the pathetic… always getting the praise."

"Ma-Malfoy, what are you doing?" She stammered, unable to move.

"I'm so sick of it, Granger… I try to ignore it-you, but it is impossible. You're always there, you're fucking everywhere!"

Hermione noticed his eyes were half-closed, a pained expression on his face and to say she was utterly confused was a huge understatement. She couldn't remember exactly how she had ended in that position nor could she think of a way to get out. She tried to push Draco away but he was stronger than her and seemed determined to do something.

"Gra-Her… mione…" he whispered, his lips so close to hers that not even a piece of paper could fit in between them.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


	11. Sponsored by Ms Granger (Number 11)

**Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas Dramione One-Shot Writing Competition**

 **Entry: Sponsored by Ms. Granger (Number 11)**

 **All works are a submission to the Wandlore Wordsmithes & Betas email from the facebook group. Stories are submitted by individual authors and author groups, all stories on this profile are works submitted, and not the work of any one author.**

 **Once works have been judged, the author's name will be released and added to their story!**

 **Everything here is, as always, owned by J.K. Rowling and created in the minds of our brilliant writers.**

 **Rating: M  
Genre: Romance/Humor  
Pairing: Dramione  
Trigger Warnings: None**

* * *

 **Sponsored by Ms. Granger**

* * *

 _Beep! Beep!_ Draco's wand had gone off. Draco opened his eyes and yawned. It was time for his first meeting with his muggle tolerance sponsor. Sitting up in bed, he looked around his bedroom and thought about all that had led him to this point in his life.

After spending a year in Azkaban for crimes he had committed as a Death Eater, Draco had spent another year enrolled in the Re-education Center for Children of Death Eaters. The program was started to help those who had been brought up to believe that muggleborns and muggles were beneath wizards and witches. Draco had always been told that he was far superior to most witches and wizards, because of his pureblood ancestry. Now he had learned that he had been brainwashed to hate, and that all wizards were equals, regardless of blood status. Draco easily adapted to these ideals as he had already began to realize this during his 6th year at Hogwarts. He determined that a majority of what he was brought up to believe was not founded on truth, especially when that swotty bitch, Hermione Granger continued to beat him for top grades every year. It didn't matter though; he was already marked as a Death Eater and would do anything in his power to keep his family safe from the wrath of the Dark Lord.

Draco was lucky to have received only a year-long sentence and mandatory "re-education" as his punishment for his crimes and involvement with the Death Eaters. He would soon be done serving his sentence, with only his year of "probation" left. He was feeling confident and hopeful about his future, and happy to once again join wizard society.

Climbing out of bed, Draco stumbled to the bathroom and began to clean up for his first meeting with his sponsor. He knew she was a young witch based on the letter he had received, which had been sent to notify him of the day and time to meet at the Ministry of Magic for his sponsor pairing. He decided he wanted to look his best, hoping that his sponsor was fit and he might be able to have a bit of "fun" since he would have to meet with this woman twice a week for the next year. Draco, being incredibly handsome and quite the playboy, was used to being fawned over by females. Even at the re-education center, he was popular with the females, both residents and staff. He had shagged just about every attractive female at the center. He had enjoyed himself immensely, but never found much of a connection with any of the women he had bedded over the year.

Stepping out of the steaming, hot shower, Draco toweled off and combed his hair. After using a drying charm on his hair, Draco dabbed on his favorite cologne. Pulling on his fitted grey V-neck sweater and dark denim jeans, he gave himself a once over thinking that he looked good. His platinum blond locks fell in just the right way, showcasing his silver-grey eyes. Draco slipped on his coat and shoes and gave himself one last look in the mirror. Satisfied with his appearance, he grabbed his wand and apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

0o0o0o0o0

As Draco made his way through the Ministry of Magic, he couldn't help but notice the stares coming from every direction. Chin up and sneer on, he walked with purpose towards the Auror headquarters. As he approached the lift that would take him up the proper floor, he heard a few witches whispering behind him. He turned and they blushed as he winked at them saying, "Good morning, ladies," in his most seductive tone. He was pleased with their reaction thinking _I still have it!_ Even a year in Azkaban and a year at the re-education center wasn't enough to break the Malfoy charm.

As Draco walked off the lift and approached the door to the Auror headquarters, he could see his two friends just inside the office. Gregory Goyle and Theo Nott were mid-conversation when Draco entered the room. "Well if it isn't Slytherin's prince," Nott snickered.

"Shut it, Nott. You're such a wanker," Draco responded. "We are a few years passed Hogwarts, don't you think that it's time to grow up?"

"Grow up?! Not if I can help it," answered Goyle with a conspiratorial look towards Nott.

There was nothing they enjoyed more than messing with the younger Malfoy. As they laughed on, the Minister of Magic entered the waiting room. Suddenly aware of an additional presence, the three men and the rest of the individuals in the waiting room looked up, directing their attention to Minister Shacklebolt.

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman. In a few moments, we will introduce you to your sponsors. Before we begin, I would like to congratulate all of you on completing the residential portion of your re-education. We welcome you back into wizarding society, and look forward to the continued cooperation of our statue of secrecy." By this point, Draco had stopped listening and was instead checking out the shapely legs and arse of a young auror who was speaking to one of her colleagues. Her back was turned to Draco, so he couldn't see her face, but he could tell she was fit with the way the rest of the male aurors looked at her from around the office. He was suddenly brought back to the words of the minister as he heard his name.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy will be working with Auror Hermione Granger, and finally, Mr. Gregory Goyle will be working with Auror Harry Potter."

Fuck. Hermione Granger. It couldn't be possible.

With that, he noticed the female auror he had been checking out before was turning around and walking towards him. Her hair was full of smooth, dark waves and her golden brown eyes had locked on his. He quickly glanced over at Nott, who was now talking to Auror Ernie Macmillan. He must've been paired with Macmillan when Draco was preoccupied with checking out Granger's arse. Off to his left, Goyle was stiffly shaking hands with Harry Potter. Draco suddenly realized that he at least wouldn't have to spend his next year hanging out with Potter or Macmillan, but he was still left with Gryffindor's swotty princess and "the brightest witch of their age", which would be its own special kind of torture.

Granger. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Involuntarily, he sneered. "Wipe that stupid sneer off your face, Malfoy. I don't have time for this. I have a lot planned and I want to get this over with as painlessly as possible," said Hermione, all business. Draco was completely taken aback by her no nonsense attitude. Clearly, Hermione Granger had changed a lot in the last 2+ years he had seen her. He couldn't help but be attracted to her and that bothered him. Could he, Draco Malfoy, pureblood Slytherin, possibly be attracted to the muggle-born Gryffindor witch? _Sweet Salazar!_ he thought. _I'm attracted to Hermione Granger. I can't date Granger, but I can flirt with her, and I can sleep with her. Another conquest! I am going to shag the hell out of Hermione Granger._ He had decided that if he was going to actually make this work, he better change his tactics and quickly!

Softening the sneer into more of a smirk, he replied confidently, "Sorry, Ms. Granger. Truly I meant no harm. You are looking quite well, I might add." He winked at her and continued, "I am looking forward to working with you and completing this last part of my sentence. If there is anything I can do to make this less of a burden for you, by all means, let me know. I hope we will be able to have an enjoyable time together as you help me to reacclimatize into wizarding society. I am grateful for this opportunity to prove that I have changed my wicked ways." He licked his lips and Hermione couldn't help but notice the supple fullness of his bottom lip. She immediately snapped back to attention.

"Well, Malfoy, I-"

"Call me Draco," he interjected.

"Draco-" The words rolled off her tongue like syrup.

She liked the way it felt to say his name. He liked the way it sounded. He couldn't help but think about the fact that he would eventually have her saying it again, but while she was underneath him as he thrusted into her. Again, he redirected his attention and adjusted himself to hide the stiffness he felt growing in his pants. He began to think of anything to make it go down, quidditch, acromantulas, Granger's ass-No!, dementors, dementors, dementors!

0o0o0o0o0

They walked down the street to access the apparition point. Hermione had told him they were required to meet three times a week. She felt that Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays would work best for them and would accommodate her work schedule. Since it was Saturday, she had a full day planned, and Draco agreed to go along with whatever she had planned. Hermione and Draco apparated to Diagon Alley, and walked through the archway leading them towards muggle London.

"Granger, where they hell are you taking me? Tell me where we are going," Draco sputtered as she guided him down the street. "Lunch, "she replied evenly. She didn't know how well sushi would go over with him, so she decided to surprise him. They had spent most of their morning going over the required forms necessary to begin Hermione's role as sponsor for Draco.

As they walked along, Draco realized he hadn't brought any muggle money along. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Draco pulled Hermione's arm turning her to face him. He was blushing somewhat, which Hermione found both unnerving and adorable. She had never seen Draco Malfoy blush. "Granger, I haven't got any muggle money. We need to go back to Diagon Alley so I can convert some of my money to muggle money." He dropped his gaze as he spoke. Never in his life had Draco been without the means to purchase something, save for his time in Azkaban. It made him uncomfortable. Hermione giggled, which made Draco even more uncomfortable. He thought to himself, how could he possibly woo her out of that skirt if he couldn't even pay for her meal? "Draco, I can pay for it, it's not a big deal. We will be meeting again after this, you can just pay for me next time." This time, Hermione winked and began laughing at his shocked and outraged expression. "You think you're going to pay for me?!" The outrage was evident in his voice.

"Granger, don't you-"

"Call me Hermione, Draco."

"What? Hermi-wait! That wasn't what we were talking about! You aren't buying us lunch, I am!"

"Draco, it's really not a big deal. I-"

"It is to me, Hermione. I want to go to Gringotts. Please."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be shocked. Never would she have imagined that Draco Malfoy would have said please to her. With that, she grabbed his hand and they began walking the opposite way, back towards Diagon Alley. Draco noticed how soft and warm her hand felt as it linked with his. He looked down at their interlocked hands and smiled, letting himself be dragged along as they headed towards Diagon Alley.

0o0o0o0o0

An hour later, Draco and Hermione were seated at Sushi Bar Atariya. Draco had never had sushi before, so Hermione had taken the liberty of ordering a few of her favorite types of sushi, sushi rolls, tempura, and teriyaki chicken. When the first order of tuna maki arrived, Draco shuddered. "Grang-I mean, Hermione, we are going to eat raw fish? I don't think I can eat raw fish. Bloody hell! That's disgusting." Draco grimaced at the small pink filets lying on balls of rice.

"Is the wicked death eater afraid of a little raw fish," Hermione laughed. "I would have assumed you were a bit tougher than that, Draco. Go on. Eat it. You'll like it." The way her grin curled up and her eyes brightened as she spoke gave Draco that boost of confidence he needed. "Love, you have no idea just how wicked I can be," replied Draco, staring directly into Hermione's eyes. Dipping his sushi into his soy sauce he popped the piece of sushi into his mouth, swallowed, and licked his lips. His eyes were a stormy grey and locked into Hermione's. Her breath hitched, only for a moment, with the intensity of his gaze. Fuck. Hermione realized at that moment, they were flirting, and she liked it. A lot. She broke his gaze and took a swig of her beer, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. There was something about Draco Malfoy. She knew he was intelligent, but always a complete prat. Now she had found that he was less obnoxious and actually rather charming. Somewhere along the line, he had also gone from handsome, to sexy as hell. She was in trouble.

As the different dishes came, Draco gained more confidence as he realized he actually quite enjoyed the sushi. As they ate, Hermione talked about what she had been up to after the war, and Draco listened attentively. He found her to be fascinating. She was witty and as clever as she had always been, but this brilliant witch was also fiery and passionate, and Draco found her more and more appealing the longer they conversed. He realized that he was truly pleased that he would get to see her again, and relatively frequently due to their current arrangement. Again, he was shocked at how drawn he was to Hermione Granger. If he hadn't already known he would be seeing her again, he probably would've asked her out again. The idea that he had any feelings beyond wanting to shag this woman was unusual to him and he didn't want her to realize just how much he was enjoying her company. He hoped that she was interested in him in the same way he was finding himself interested in her.

0o0o0o0o0

Once they had finished their meal, they had strolled back to Diagon Alley. Draco had suggested they stop and get dessert at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He had ordered strawberry chocolate chip ice cream, his favorite flavor. Hermione had ordered the butterbeer ice cream. They sat across from each other continuing their conversation and flirting unabashedly, when Draco noticed Hermione had a bit of melted ice cream on her lip. Reaching across to her mouth, he dragged his thumb across her lip, smirking as he wiped away the dribble of ice cream. Again, Hermione found her breath hitching and her cheeks flushing as Draco put his thumb between his lips, licking off the ice cream he had removed from the corner of her mouth, his stormy grey eyes looking directly into her sparking amber ones. The silence between them was thick, and for a moment, everything around them disappeared. It was within that moment where Draco decided he had to taste those sweet lips for himself. He leaned across in his seat and gently pressed his lips to hers, parting them ever so slightly and dragging the tip of his tongue across her lower lip, bringing forth the sweetest sigh he had ever heard. As her lips parted, his tongue slipped in and they were kissing each other, passion building as their tongues collided. She tasted like the sweet butterbeer ice cream she had been eating and he wanted more. His hand slid into her soft, wavy hair as he drew her in closer.

"Holy shit! Draco?!" Theodore Nott had spotted his friend with his lips locked onto Hermione's. Immediately, Draco and Hermione broke apart, panting slightly from the intensity of the kiss they just shared. "I'm sorry Draco, I didn't mean to interrupt anything!" Nott was trying to keep a straight face, but he couldn't help but guffaw at what he had just witnessed, his best friend, Slytherin's former prince, making out with Gryffindor's perfect former princess. It was too goo to be true, and he couldn't wait to tell Goyle what he had just witnessed. "I'll let you to get on with whatever you were doing before," he chuckled. "Talk to you later, Draco." Nott walked off, continuing to laugh as he walked away.

Hermione's cheeks had turned a deep shade of red as she swallowed the incredible embarrassment she felt at being caught in the position that she was in. She was a professional, and she was technically working. What would her superiors think if they had seen this, and in public! She had to leave.

Draco reached out for Hermione's hand and said, "Maybe we should go back to my place, have some wine, and continue where we left off?" His lips had turned up into a cheeky smile as he pulled her up from her seat. He knew he had this in the bag. He could feel it. She wanted him; she had totally just shown him with that kiss.

Hermione, pulled her hand out of his and stuttered, " I- I- I really sh- should be getting home. I'll owl you about our next meeting. Bye!" She had turned and briskly walked away. "Hermione, wait!" Draco called after her as she walked away from him, away from the moment. "Dammit, Nott, you fucking prat!" Draco huffed under his breath. Theodore Nott, that fucking arsehole had just spoiled a perfectly good moment. Draco was pissed. Hermione had walked away so quickly, clearly embarrassed. He decided to let her go. He would see her again in four days. He would send an owl tonight, thanking her for spending the day with him, and apologizing for what had happened. This wasn't over yet. He would taste those lips again. He wasn't giving up Hermione Granger.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading through this entry, please view other entries and cast your vote by following the link the facebook group._


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